Elite Level Refereeing in Men’s Football: A Developmental Sociological Account

Thesis submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy at the University of Leicester

By Sharon Colwell

Department of Sociology University of Leicester

March, 2004 Abstract

This thesis explores ‘when’, ‘how’ and ‘why’ refereeing and refereeing problems have developed in elite level English men’s football. The study, which is framed by a figurational or process sociological approach traces the origins and development of match officiating from the mid 19th century through to the 2000-01 season. The analysis begins with the introduction of ‘third parties’ to oversee the early football-like games and concludes with a discussion of the key issues raised in interviews with elite level refereeing personnel. In between, the development of various administrative bodies which have been concerned with refereeing practices and problems, such as the FA, the Football League, FIFA and the Referees’ Union are discussed.

Throughout, I explore changes in officiating through an in-depth analysis of the FA Laws of the Game and critically assess what these Laws ‘tell us’ about the way football was played from the mid 19th century. This study then considers the changing status of match officials through the 20th century and explores the impact of television and newspaper coverage on our perceptions of refereeing problems in the contemporary game. Throughout, I analyse the dynamic power relationships between players, administrators, fans, media personnel and referees in order to develop our understanding of how refereeing problems have emerged. Throughout I contextualise match officials within the broader relational network of which they are a part in order to understand how referees have been constrained and/ or enabled by other members of the football ‘world’.

i Acknowledgements

This study was made possible by Singer & Friedlander’s generous provision of funding for a studentship at the Centre for Research into Sport and Society (CRSS). I thank them for their contribution and, in particular, express my gratitude to Singer & Friedlander’s Tony Fraher and Simon Ballard, who were instrumental in setting up the studentship.

My supervisor, Patrick Murphy, was also instrumental in that process - a typical example of his entrepreneurial spirit and commitment to supporting young researchers which characterised his work at the CRSS in Leicester. Throughout this project, Patrick has generously shared his sociological knowledge, his ideas and his enthusiasm. This study would not be what it is without him and I would like to thank him here.

Thanks are also due to Dr Martin Roderick who was always willing to share his sociological insights, his experiences of ‘doing research’ and his terrible jokes. His modest, unassuming interventions have been genuinely supportive and I would like to thank him for his help and, in particular, for his encouragement in the latter stages. Ivan Waddington also provided advice and helped keep me on track during difficult moments. Lisa Heggs, Dominic Malcolm, Eric Dunning, Ken Sheard, Margaret Milsom and Mary Needham all offered advice and/or kind words along the way, for which thanks are extended. So too did Sandy Pearson, along with some lifesaving computer- related interventions, which I would like to thank her for here.

I am extremely grateful and indebted to my partner, Anna Engel, who has endured the long road to submission with amazing patience. She has been incredibly supportive and understanding and, without her, this project would never have been completed. To Anna, Filbert and Caffrey: thank you for keeping me going.

Thanks too to our family and friends, especially my mum and dad, Ann and Cliff Colwell, for their encouragement and regular enquires about my progress (despite their bemusement at the subject matter) and to Sam and Andr for the same. Thanks to Liz Clough, for proof reading with such a keen eye and for offering support for the duration, and to Burgess and Simpson and Tom and Ana for knowing when and how to say the right thing – your encouragement has meant a lot to me. And to Betty Kerr, who was a good friend and a great woman, thank you for your support and I wish you were here to see the end product.

Philip Don, the former Premier League Referees’ Officer, deserves special thanks for his involvement in and enthusiasm for the project and for facilitating the process of making contact with many of the participants in this study. Arthur Smith at the Referees’ Association was similarly

ii enthusiastic and helpful, as were numerous members of local referees’ associations to whom I would like to express my gratitude. Thanks are also due to the FA’s David Barber who was extremely helpful and generous with his time and expertise.

Finally I would like to thank the referees, match delegates, referee coaches and football administrators who gave up their time to be interviewed for this study. Their significant contributions to this project are greatly appreciated and I hope the following study accurately represents their views and experiences.

iii Abbreviations

AFLR&L Association of Football League Referees & Linesmen (1930- 1992) APLFLMO Association of Premier League and Football League Match Officials (1992-) B&DRA & District Referees’ Association CRSS Centre for Research into Sport and Society FIFA Federation Internationale de Football Association IFAB International Football Association Board LMA League Managers Association LMC League Management Committee LOTG The FA Laws of the Game The Laws The FA Laws of the Game LRA Lancashire Referees Association PFA The Professional Footballers Association The FA The RA The Referees’ Association (1893- c1900); based in (London) The RU The Referees’ Union (1908- 1921/22, when renamed The RA); national organisation. The RA The Referees’ Association (1921/22- present) Formerly The RU. The SFA The Scottish Football Association S&DRA & District Referees’ Association S&HCFA Sheffield & Hallamshire County FA TSG Technical Study Group (responsible for reporting on the organisation of World Cup tournaments). UEFA Union des Associations Européennes de Football The WFA The Welsh Football Association

iv Contents

Page Abstract i Acknowledgements ii Table of Abbreviations iv Chapter 1 Introduction 1 Chapter 2 Theory & Method 14 Chapter 3 The Origins of Match Officiating 65 Chapter 4 Written Rules and The Laws of the Game 1863 – 1892 94 Chapter 5 Practical Refereeing Issues 1880s – 1900s 141 Chapter 6 The Referees’ Union 175 Chapter 7 International Refereeing Issues 219 Chapter 8 The World Cup & Violent Play 248 Chapter 9 The Redefinition of Refereeing Problems in the Media 291 Chapter 10 Refereeing in the Premier League 319 Conclusion Key Findings and Implications for the Future 343 Bibliography 353 Appendices 376

Chapter 1 Introduction to the Study

This thesis explores „when‟, „how‟ and „why‟ refereeing and refereeing problems have developed in elite level English football. It is the first study to explore the long term development of match officiating and to attempt to address these questions. The analysis begins with the introduction of „third parties‟ to oversee the early football-like games and concludes with a discussion of the key issues raised in interviews with Premier League referees. In between, I consider the development of the various administrative bodies which have been concerned with refereeing practices and problems, such as the FA, the Football League, FIFA and the Referees‟ Union. I trace the development of refereeing through an in depth analysis of the FA laws of the game, critically assessing what these laws „tell us‟ about the way football was played in the mid to late 19th century. I examine the changing status of match officials over time and explore the impact of television and newspaper coverage on our perceptions of refereeing problems in the contemporary game. Throughout, I analyse the dynamic power relationships between players, administrators, fans, media personnel and referees in order to develop our understanding of how refereeing problems have emerged. And, I contextualise match officials within the broader relational network of which they are a part in order to understand how referees have been constrained and/ or enabled by other members of the football „world‟.

That refereeing is an „issue‟ in the contemporary game is apparent from the headlines in the football pages which appear with reassuring regularity year on year. „Bad refereeing becoming a plague‟ (ET, 6/2/1996) is a typical example, a variation on which is guaranteed to come up every season1. But how long has refereeing been an „issue‟ in football? How did it come to be seen as a problem? And why does the refereeing „crisis‟ recur? This thesis goes some way to answering these questions which have, to date, received little attention in the academic sports literature. For, whilst the increased

1 scholarly interest in football over recent years has advanced our knowledge about many aspects of the game2, writers and researchers have generally had relatively little to say about refereeing. As such, our understanding of match officiating has progressed only marginally in the decades since Mason (1980, 162) observed “[w]e do not know much about referees” in his seminal text on the social history of .

In the academic literature, references to match officials are few and far between – including in texts offering otherwise relatively comprehensive analyses of specific periods in association football history (see, for example: Russell (1997), Walvin (2001 & 1975) and Green (1956)). Indeed, despite making the observation, Mason himself actually does little to address the lack of information on referees in his otherwise exhaustively researched and comprehensive text. Whilst he devotes separate chapters to clubs, players, crowds, „amateurs and professionals‟, and to „drink, gambling and the sporting press‟, referees are dealt with fleetingly, with the most in depth analysis covering just a few pages (see pp. 160-163 and 255-256). Likewise in his „contemporary social history‟ of the game, Wagg (1984) devotes discrete chapters to the media and commerce, to managers, players, the maximum wage and to fans, yet referees do not merit inclusion in the index and are rarely mentioned in the text. The relationships between, for example, referees and players, clubs, fans and the press before the First World War are all dealt with in just one paragraph! (See pp. 15–16)3.

More recently, Thompson‟s highly readable The Man in Black: A History of the Football Referee (1999) promises, at first sight, to address this. However, heavily reliant on existing literature and with no references or bibliography, it actually delivers little „new‟ historical information for serious students of refereeing. As these examples indicate, referees have been rather marginalised in the historical literature. There are, however, one or two notable exceptions to this general „pattern‟ in the literature. Prime amongst these are the classic

2 four volume works by Gibson & Pickford Association Football and the Men Who Made it (1906) and Fabian and Green (eds.) Association Football (1960). Both make significant contributions to our knowledge about the development of refereeing, particularly the latter which includes a number of influential articles by Witty (1960a-g). These sources are drawn on in this study, but in this thesis significant empirical detail and analysis is added to the existing literature.

Mason‟s observation concerning our lack of knowledge about referees hints at a pattern evident in much of the general football literature. Given the attention other aspects of football has received, the general absence of research about referees is an interesting omission. Just as Roderick et al (2000, 165) have expressed surprise at the lack of sociological inquiry into player injuries, for them “a major contingency in professional football,” so the relative absence of work on match officials seems something of an anomaly. This is particularly so given the attention afforded to refereeing decisions and performances in the print media. Though „aggrieved‟ players and managers sometimes give the impression that the game would be better off without referees, they are integral to the game in all but the most informal kick-about. „Third parties‟ to oversee games have been an enduring and, apparently, necessary presence since the first written rules of football-like games were committed to paper – if not before. And, given that refereeing is so often perceived and/or portrayed as a „problem‟ by those involved in elite level football, this aspect of the game would seem to offer immense scope for investigation.

The lack of academic interest in referees perhaps reflects the dominant ideology in the „football world‟ which marginalises referees and match officials. Within such an ideology, the referee is categorised as a peripheral figure, as an „outsider‟ who is less significant than players or managers, and who is usually only seen to be doing a good job when „not noticed‟ in the

3 game. Perhaps, to date, researchers have been influenced by this kind of ideology, and have not seen match officials as important constituents of the football world. Alternatively, the lack of academic enquiry about referees could simply be a reflection of researchers‟ particular research interests. Whatever the reasons, this study seeks to „buck the trend‟ and to examine the significance of referees in the football figuration.

In terms of work concerned with the „contemporary‟ match official, it would be inaccurate to suggest that officiating has not been addressed at all in the academic sports literature. Work on the „home advantage‟ (HA)4 in sports often includes reference to match officiating and there are numerous articles on the psychology of officiating5. Attempts have also been made to apply statistical techniques to quantify particular „incidents‟ during games, including refereeing/ umpiring decisions6. Studies on the HA have attempted to quantify match situation „variables‟, such as „game location‟ and „size of crowd‟, and to analyse how these factors might affect player and, occasionally, referee performances. In the popular press, the statistics produced by this type of quantitative research make for sensational headlines – such as Match of the Day Magazine‟s “90% of refs are homers - we‟ve got the proof” 7. But, whilst such headlines imply otherwise, these „facts‟ do not speak for themselves. For, due to the highly complex interrelationships between the variables being quantified, these studies actually remain largely inconclusive. So whilst, for example, researchers have established a correlation between a higher number of fouls awarded against away teams, they have yet to establish why such a correlation exists and what, if any, explanation relates to match officials.

Similarly, studies concerned with the psychology of match officiating have tended to focus on „quantifying‟ performance during games. Whilst these sources were consulted at the outset of this research, the majority were found to be of limited relevance and, as such, are not discussed further. For, they

4 seek to address rather different questions than those posed in this thesis. Rather than attempting to quantify aspects of refereeing performance, this thesis seeks to contextualise referees within the broader relational network of which they are a part (Elias, 1978, pp. 13-15). The aim of this thesis is to develop an understanding of the origins of „match officiating‟, of the ways refereeing developed during the 19th and 20th centuries and of the contemporary experiences of elite level referees officiating in the English FA Premier League. The story of refereeing is explored developmentally (Elias, 1978, pp. 145-152) and, in general, chronologically in order to gain insights into the long-term processes which have shaped contemporary refereeing practices and problems. Although this thesis is broad and ambitious in scope, given that much of the territory covered is previously uncharted, it is best read as a „preliminary analysis‟ of refereeing. In other words, much more research and analysis remains to be done. However, it is hoped that by this study‟s conclusion readers will know „a little bit more‟ about referees and refereeing issues.

Throughout this study, the literature from a particular period is discussed alongside the analysis of the development of refereeing. For, the way refereeing issues have been, and are, discussed in the „histories‟ of football, the biographies of players and the governing bodies‟ official publications, for example, informs our understanding of how refereeing problems have been defined and constructed by various members of the football network over time. In other words, the literature on football constitutes one aspect of the empirical evidence explored in this thesis. Below, the aspects of refereeing covered in this work are discussed, chapter by chapter. The overall shape of this thesis is outlined and the most significant issues addressed throughout are highlighted.

In Chapter Two, the figurational theory framing this study and the methods utilised to carry it out are outlined. The key concepts of figurational sociology

5 are highlighted and the ways these have influenced this thesis are discussed. In this discussion, attention is paid to Elias‟s notion of the civilising process, involvement and detachment, the developmental approach adopted for this study and the importance of power relationships. The methodological implications of adopting a figurational approach are explored in this context. Next, the various methodological tools used in this research are discussed in terms of data collection and analysis.

Chapter Three looks at the origins and development of match supervision, exploring „when‟, „why‟ and „how‟ umpires and referees were introduced. Initially, the somewhat limited evidence on the use of umpires and referees in the early forms of folk football is discussed. The focus then shifts to a more in depth examination of the umpiring and refereeing roles in the various football- like games played in the public schools in the mid 19th century, with particular attention paid to the development of written rules. In line with Goulstone (2000) and Harvey‟s (2001) recommendations, attention is also paid to the football-like games being played outside of the schools during this period. The critiques of the traditional model of football‟s development, (as expounded by Dunning and Sheard (1979), for example) are also briefly addressed here. As well as documenting the origins of match officiating, this chapter contains two important analytical elements.

The first is a critique of the existing literature on the public school games. In particular, apparent inconsistencies and inaccuracies in the literature are highlighted. The second element is an attempt to analyse and explain the reasons why „third parties‟ were introduced to oversee games. The commonsense assumptions in the literature regarding „how‟ public school games were played, in terms of ideas about fair play and gentlemanly conduct, are questioned. Through this analysis, the themes which run throughout this thesis and help us to understand why refereeing has come to be seen as an issue are introduced. These are problems relating to the need for

6 rules to be interpreted and issues raised by different ideologies about „how‟ games should be played.

Chapter Four moves on to discuss the development of refereeing between the 1840s and the end of the 19th century. Early football codes and the development of the FA Laws of the Game are the key elements addressed here. The written rules are considered in depth, for they provide valuable evidence on the introduction of match officials and the development of refereeing. The various football codes which preceded the first FA Laws are initially considered. Next, The FA‟s institution in 1863 and the processes leading to the publication of the first FA Laws of the Game are discussed. Harvey‟s (2001) critiques of the existing historical literature on the development of the FA and its laws are considered in this context. The FA‟s attempts to gain widespread acceptance for its embryonic association code is then discussed.

The remainder of Chapter Four explores the introduction of match officials in the FA code and the development of match officiating through to the end of the 19th century. During this period, the practices and principles which govern contemporary referees were established and these are documented in some detail. On a more analytical level, I begin to explore the notion of the „football subculture‟; a range of playing practices and behaviours designed to circumvent The Laws and deceive the referee. In relation to this, I look at what the development of The Laws can „tell us‟ about the way the game was being played and how the lawmakers wanted it to be played. A simple, although overly crude, way of conceptualising this is in terms of the conflicting ideologies between fair play (embodied by those devising The Laws) and „winning at all costs‟ (embodied by those playing the game). The more complex aspects of this argument are unravelled in Chapter Four. I also critically examine some common-sense ideas about the „amateur ethos‟ and fair play. I question the widespread assumption that rules to penalise

7 „cheating‟ were only introduced when the game became more „serious‟ and professional players began to play for their livelihoods.

Chapter Five brings to light the broader, practical issues affecting umpires and, later, referees from the 1880s into the early 20th century. The context within which a perceived need for the organisation and „training‟ of referees emerged is considered in depth. In particular, the ways in which the increasing complexity of the Laws of the Game impacted on referees are examined. I also discuss the FA member‟s attempts to „educate‟ both players and officials about The Laws, examining the FA‟s efforts to diffuse their ideals about how the game should be played and overseen. The emergence of refereeing as an „issue‟ during this period is then explored. Again, this is a key theme which runs throughout the thesis. In this context, I explore the interrelationships between officials, fans and the game‟s administrators in order to understand „how‟ refereeing came to be seen as a „problem‟. In particular, match day attacks on referees, post match protests about results and the FA‟s response to these issues are discussed. The second half of this chapter examines the London based Referees‟ Association, set up in 1893 (hereafter RA (London))8. The introduction of rudimentary qualifications for referees is documented and the organisation‟s „training‟ and education „policies‟ concerning the interpretation of the Laws of the Game are also discussed. The relationships between members of the FA and the RA (London) and Football League personnel are examined at the end of Chapter Five. This again introduces a central theme. For, the way these various organisations constrained referees is key to understanding the development of the „refereeing problem‟.

In Chapter Six, the formation and development of the national Referees‟ Union (RU) are explored. The structure and objectives of the union are outlined and the ways in which particular responsibilities were devolved to local referees‟ societies are examined. Some of the key issues with which the

8 RU members were concerned during this period are then discussed. Primary among these are the issues of assaults on match officials and the introduction of fines and suspensions for referees. Again, what these developments tell us about the relationships between referees and the Football Association and Football League are explored. The next section of Chapter Six concentrates on the suspension of the 1913 Cup Final referee. This example is used as a case study to explore the shift in attitudes towards referees from the game‟s administrators and also to highlight some of the problems which beset RU/RA members. Throughout this chapter, possible explanations for the RU/RA‟s limited success in relation to its objectives are raised. The conclusion of Chapter Six draws these issues together, providing analysis of the problems raised by „in fighting‟, conflict between the national body and local referees‟ societies and organisational difficulties.

Chapters Seven and Eight consider the international development of football and the development of refereeing in this context. Initially in Chapter Seven, the establishment of the game‟s international governing body is discussed. Next, the history of FA involvement and withdrawal is considered. The changing power relationships between the FA and FIFA are explored in order to provide the necessary background detail within which refereeing issues can be contextualised. In particular, the relatively high status accorded to the FA and British referees internationally are discussed, along with the British dominance of the International Football Association Board (IFAB), the body which is responsible for making any changes to the Laws of the Game. The limited attention paid to the training and „guidance‟ of referees by FIFA in the early 20th century is discussed in the next section of this chapter. Next, consideration is given to the experiences of British referees in South America during the 1930s-1950s, both in terms of the way their appointment can be understood as an indication of their relatively high status and in terms of the way divergent playing and refereeing practices became apparent. Attention is then paid to the training of English referees during this period. In this

9 context, questions are raised as to the extent to which the British pre-eminence abroad was „justified‟. Finally in this chapter, the gradual development of national training for referees and instructors through the FA and through FIFA is briefly examined.

Chapter Eight continues to explore the development of refereeing in an international context through an examination of the World Cup tournaments from 1930 through to the 1990s. The theme of interpretation is again central to this discussion, as I explore the differences in styles of play and interpretation of The Laws which became apparent as football spread globally. The problems such differences created for referees and players are discussed and attention is paid to the emergence of „violent play‟ as an issue. FIFA‟s efforts promote an universal interpretation of The Laws is then examined, through a discussion of training for referees and the introduction of more „precise‟ instructions to referees and players. The way players and referees were able to „resist‟ such instruction, and the reasons „why‟ are then considered and the consequences of this resistance is then explored. FIFA‟s efforts to employ more democratic procedures in their selection of officials for the World Cup tournament are then considered. In particular, attention is paid to the unintended consequences of these policies, in terms of the appointment of relatively inexperienced referees to the tournament. Next, the ways FIFA has increasingly constrained referees in order to ensure the Laws of the Game are interpreted in line with FIFA members‟ views of how the game should be played are discussed, with attention paid to the international governing body‟s increasing power in relation to national associations. Finally in Chapter Eight, the changes in FIFA disciplinary procedures are discussed. In particular, the organisation‟s more comprehensive and relatively successful „authoritarian‟ approach to tackling violent play is examined.

In Chapter Nine I explore the ways in which refereeing issues have come to achieve prominence in contemporary discussions about football. The key

10 theme in this discussion is that changes in media coverage of football, both in print and in particular on radio and television, have led to a heightened perception of refereeing as problematic. I explore the expansion of media coverage of football and its changing nature, focussing on the role of the match commentators and examining their „duty‟ to inform and entertain viewers. I examine the consequences of ex-players and managers commentating on football and consider the ways in which their immersion in the football subculture may influence their understanding of refereeing issues. Via a mini „case study‟ using a Martin Tyler and Andy Gray match commentary, I „apply‟ these ideas and examine in detail the way instant replays are utilised. In the final section of Chapter Nine, I briefly explore some of the often proposed technological „solutions‟ to refereeing problems. In particular, I consider the ways in which the „redefinition‟ of refereeing problems by members of the media-football figuration has resulted in an inadequate understanding of the causes of refereeing problems and, as a consequence, a misplaced faith in the notion of technology as a panacea to refereeing „ills‟.

In the final chapter of this thesis, I explore the views of elite level refereeing personnel on a number of the issues and themes raised in this thesis. Here I present extracts of interview data from 23 semi-structured interviews conducted during the 2000-01 season. Initially, I outline the refereeing „structure‟ which was in place when I interviewed participants and explore their views on the relationships between Premier League club personnel, , who was the Premier League Referees‟ Officer from 1998-2001, and The FA. I then turn my attention to some of the problems raised by Don‟s employment by the Premier League. Throughout, I present referees‟ thoughts and opinions on their relationships with other members of the football figuration and on issues such as the interpretation of The Laws and the training and assessment procedures they are subject to. In particular, I consider the ways in which a number of the strategies employed by the

11 Premier League to „improve‟ refereeing standards may actually have a detrimental affect on referees‟ ability to perform.

1 See also, for example:‟ UEFA back referees in storm over cards‟ (ET, 11/6/96); „Referees under fire over outbreak of yellow peril‟ (ET, 27/06/1996); „Referees in the firing line from club moguls‟ (ET, 23/12/1997); „Time for referees to take action‟ (ET, 26/12/1997); „Whistling in the dark‟ (The Guardian, 24/01/1998); „Referees under fire again‟ (ET, 30/03/1998); Blunder Refs Could Rob Us Of £9m Says Kinnear‟ (DMO, 31/03/1998); „Whistleblowers must be kicked into 21st century‟ (TO, 9/7/98); „Referees should be accountable, not unapproachable‟ (GO, 13/11/98); „Why English referees are the fall guys‟ (ET, 6/12/98); „Football on the edge of chaos‟ (ET, 05/10/1999); „“Wire referees up to electrodes,” Gregory suggests‟ (IO, 20/10/1999); Anarchy on the cards‟(The Guardian, 26/8/ 2000); „Wenger talks of disciplinary circus‟ (TO, 26/8/2000); „Men in middle of a fine mess: Another week, another refereeing controversy‟ (, 6/1/2002). 2 For example: the economics of football (Gratton, 2000; Conn, 1999; Flynn & Guest, 1994), women and football (Melling, 1999 & 1998; Lopez, 1997; Williams & Woodhouse, 1991; Williamson, 1991), football apprentices (Parker, 1996), player injuries (Roderick, Waddington & Parker, 2000; Hawkins & Fuller, 1996), football fans/ spectators (Brick, 2000; Lomax, 2000; Malcolm, Jones & Waddington, 2000), football‟s working class origins (Curry, 2002; Dunning & Curry, 2002; Dunning, 2001; Harvey, 2001; Goulstone, 2000; Mason, 1980); football hooliganism (Dunning, Murphy & Williams, 1988, 1986; Williams, Dunning & Murphy, 1984), football and globalisation (Goldberg & Wagg, 1991) and racism and football (Garland and Rowe, 2001; Moran, 2000) 3 Wagg does mention referees in his excellent examination of gamesmanship, professionalism and working class masculinity (pp. 62-3 and 148-155) and elsewhere (pp. 222, 227n, 228n, and 243n). 4 For a useful overview of the HA literature, see: Courneya and Carron (1992). For studies identifying variables which may affect the HA, see: Schwartz and Barsky (1997); Nevill, Newell, and Gale (1996); Clarke and Norman (1995); Pollard (1986); Mizruchi (1985); Snyder and Purdy (1985); Greer (1983); Varca (1980) and; Edwards (1979). For research exploring the crowd/ spectator‟ variable, see: Agnew and Carron (1994); Baumeister (1985); Baumeister and Steinhilber (1984) and also the following, which specifically consider the relationship between the crowd/spectators and match officials: Nevill, Balmer and Williams (2001); Nevill, Balmer, and Williams (1999); Lehman and Reifman (1987). See also: Randall Smith, Ciacciarelli, Serzan and Lambert (2000) on „travel‟ and the HA, and Barnett and Hilditch (1993) on „playing surface‟ and the HA. Lefebrve and Passer (1974) look at the relationships between game location, match significance and aggression. 5 Mascarenhas, Collins, & Mortimer, (2003); Mascarenhas, Collins, & Mortimer (2002a, 2002b); Mellick, (1999); Rainey (1999); Rainey and Hardy (1997); Trudel, Cöté, and Sylvestre (1996); Anshel (1995); Anshel and Weinberg (1995); Bar-Eli, Levy-Kolker, Pie and Tenenbaum (1995); Rainey and Winterich (1995); Cei (1993); Taylor (1993); Rainey, Santilli and Fallon (1992); Furst (1991); Asami, Togari and Ohashi (1988) ; Bar-Eli and Tenenbaum (1988); Mitchell, Leonard and Schmitt (1982); Smith (1982). 6 See, for example: Oudejans, Verheijen, Bakker, Gerrits, Steinbrückner, and Beek (2000); Ridder, Cramer and Hopstaken, P. (1994); Van Meerbeek, Van Gool and Bollens (1988); Sumner and Mobley (1981); Reep and Benjamin (1971); Reep and Benjamin (1968). 7 The article this headline referred to, by Brooks (1999), was based on Alan Briscoe‟s data on over 50, 000 matches since 1979. Brooks suggested “Briscoe wants his findings to provoke intelligent debate” (1999, 62), something which appears to have been overlooked by the sub editors responsible for the article‟s title and sub-headings. These included: “Fact: 79% of this man‟s vital decisions have favoured the home side” [above a picture of the then Premier

12

League referee, Mike Reed] (1999, 62) and; “Turn over [page] for the referees and grounds to be wary of” (1999, 63). 8 This London based organisation predates the Referees‟ Union, a national organisation set up in 1908. Confusingly, the Referees‟ Union was renamed The Referees‟ Association in 1922, a name it retains to the present day. The earlier organisation will be refereed to as the RA (London), the latter as The RU and then, from 1922, The RA.

13 Chapter Two: Theory and Method

This thesis is underpinned by a figurational or „process‟ sociological framework. The key features of this approach, which emerged from the work of Norbert Elias (1897-1990), are discussed in this chapter. However, like Waddington‟s Sport, Health and Drugs figurational theory is used in this study more “implicitly” (2000, 1) than „explicitly‟. Thus, the epistemological framework is outlined in this chapter and in subsequent chapters the data are analysed in line with this approach. In other words, figurational concepts and principles have shaped the way this research has been carried out, the types of issues explored and the way in which it is written up in the following chapters. „How‟ and „why‟ are explained below in a discussion on the tenets of figurational sociology which are particularly pertinent to this study. In particular, Elias‟s reformulation of the individual/society dichotomy is explored, via a discussion of the concept of „figuration‟. The concepts of interdependency and power are also explored in this discussion. But perhaps contrary to expectation - given that this is a developmental study of football refereeing - this thesis is not primarily concerned with civilising and de- civilising processes. The reasons for this are, then, also outlined here. Finally, another key tenet of the figurational approach towards research, the concepts of involvement and detachment, are discussed.

The second section of this chapter looks at the way the figurational approach has informed the methods utilised and, following this discussion, those methods are outlined. The relationship between theory and method is also explored. Particular attention is paid to the research process in this section; for example, attention is drawn to aspects of the research where „mistakes‟ were made and how different decisions affected the overall shape and focus of this study over the course of the project. As such, what is presented here is both a “cookbook „recipe‟” (Burgess, 1989, 3) description of the methods used and a reflexive account of the practices and processes of doing research. Thus, I

14 outline the ways I have used various sources and how data have been analysed in order to make the research process as transparent as possible, as recommended by Parker (1994) and Tindall (1994). Finally in this chapter, the two way relationship between theory and research is brought to the fore via a discussion of the issue of involvement and detachment and the research process. First, then, the key aspects of a figurational approach.

The Theoretical Framework: Figurational Sociology

Figurations The term figuration is, as Goudsblom and Mennell put it, “intended to convey a cluster of important insights” (1998, 130-131). Primary among these is the sense in which “human beings are interdependent, and can only be understood as such: their lives develop in, and are significantly shaped by, the social figurations they form with each other” (1998, 131). Elias developed the concept in order to avoid the “unhelpful and misleading dualisms and dichotomies” (Murphy et al, 2000, 92) associated with conventional sociological approaches, such as that between the individual and society, between agency and structure and between the micro and the macro. As Elias put it:

The concept of figuration has been introduced precisely because it expresses what we call „society‟ more clearly and unambiguously than the existing conceptual tools of sociology, as neither an abstraction of attributes of individuals existing without a society, nor a system of „totality‟ beyond individuals (Elias, 1994, 214).

For Elias and figurational sociologists generally, the pervading and enduring tendency in „orthodox‟ sociology which presents the „individual‟ and „society‟ as discrete entities results in an inadequate conceptualisation “of a relationship central to all sociological analysis” (Green, 2000b, 4). The concept of „figurations‟ is intended to capture the way in which the people who

15 comprise society are interdependent, rather than „self-contained‟ individuals. As Green (2000b) neatly puts it:

The cornerstone of a figurational approach is the conceptualization of society as interdependent people in the plural and individuals as interdependent people in the singular (2000b, 4).

This clear exposition of the Eliasian approach underlines how figurational sociologists strive to avoid what Elias identified as the dominant way of thinking about individuals, “as a Homo Clausus” or „closed individuals‟. Within such ways of thinking:

terms such as „group‟ or „society‟ are very widely used as if they refer to something that lies outside of man [sic], that surrounds or „environs‟ the single individual [i.e., the „self‟]. The image evoked by these conventions of speaking and thinking is that of a high wall surrounding the individual, from which mysterious little dwarfs – the environmental influences – throw small rubber balls at the individual, which leave on him [sic] some imprints. That is the way in which terms like „social factors‟ and others of this kind are commonly employed (Elias, 1965, in Goudsblom and Mennell, 1998, 79-80).

Elias attempted to shift away from this dominant mode of thinking by conceptualising individuals as Homines Aperti, or “people bonded together in dynamic constellations”. Part of his project was to avoid the similarly orthodox tendency to „reify‟ the social „forces‟ or „factors‟ as if they exist apart from ourselves and somehow over and above us. For example, people sometimes talk about society making us „do‟ something. Within the football figuration, people often reify „economic forces‟ (e.g., „money makes players afraid to lose‟), or „the media‟ as if such figurations exist as discrete entities, or, in this example, as if every member of the media figuration thinks and acts in the same way. As Murphy et al (2000, 92) note, those „social forces‟ are “in fact nothing other than constraints exerted by people over one another and

16 over themselves”. For Elias, the individual and society “refer to inseparable levels of the same human world” (Murphy et al, 2000, 92).

The concept of figurations was also intended to avoid what Elias called “process reduction”, “in which everything that is experienced and observed as dynamic and interdependent is represented in static, isolated categories” (Murphy et al, 2000, 92). As such, figurations are understood to be constantly in flux:

undergoing changes of many kinds – some rapid and ephemeral, other slow but perhaps more lasting... The long- term developments taking place in human figurations have been and continue to be largely unplanned and unforeseen (Mennell and Goudsblom, 1998, 131).

The approach adopted in this study contextualises refereeing issues in figurational terms. The focus is on referees as part of the football figuration, comprised of, for example, referees, players, managers, fans, media personnel, members of the FA and FIFA and other football administrators. Referees are seen to be both constrained and enabled by various members of the football figuration: “a structure of mutually oriented and dependent people” (Elias, 1994, 214). An understanding of the way in which those constraints and enablers have shifted over time – how the football figuration has changed - is integral to explaining how and why refereeing problems have emerged over time.

The dominant „construction‟ or understanding of refereeing issues tends to attribute refereeing problems to referees themselves, as if referees somehow operate in isolation. „Controversial‟ decisions are often, though not always, explained in terms of poor refereeing performances or declining refereeing standards. It is argued that by contextualising referees within the figurational network of which they are a part and drawing attention to the ways in which different members of that figuration variously constrain and enable them, we might come to a more adequate understanding about why refereeing has

17 come to be seen as a problem in the contemporary game, and the „causes‟ of that problem.

Power Relationships Power relationships are a key element of figurational interdependencies. Elias argued that “balances of power... form an integral element of all human relationships” (1978, 74). In figurational terms, power is never absolute; no individual or group is ever absolutely powerful or absolutely powerless. Rather power is a “structural characteristic... of all human relationships” (1978, 74), it is dynamic and therefore power relationships or balances between different groups are subject to change over time. Figurations consist of human beings pursuing their individual and/or their group interests. As Murphy and Sheard (forthcoming, 13) note, the figurations in which humans are “located and of which they are a part, both constrain and enable action”. The way the power balances between various members of the football figuration have shifted over time forms an integral element of the analysis of the development of refereeing and, as such, it is a theme which runs throughout. In particular, the efforts by football administrators to gain acceptance of their view of „how the game should be played‟ are examined. Their ability to ensure referees interpreted the Laws of the Game in line with this view and the power of players, managers and referees to comply with or resist the „authority‟ of the FA and later FIFA is explored throughout. The development of football refereeing is therefore contextualised and explained in terms of on going power struggles. As Murphy and Sheard argue:

Throughout history more powerful groups have endeavoured to contain and restrain actions of less powerful groups which threatened or were perceived to threaten or offend them. On some occasions these efforts to suppress certain forms of behaviour have been relatively successful. On other occasions they met with resistance. The likelihood is that on all occasions the resultant interactions can be conceived of as a complex combination of the intended actions of the groups involved and ... the unforeseen consequences of these same dynamic figurations (forthcoming, 13).

18

This latter point brings to the fore another key aspect of the figurational conception of human relationships and power balances. It points to the fact that whilst the power chances available to different groups may be relatively uneven (i.e., one group may be significantly more powerful than another), the complexity of the social processes relatively powerful groups are trying to control “leads to many outcomes that were unintended and unforeseen” (Murphy and Sheard, forthcoming, 13). As Elias put it: “... all the planning and actions of people give rise to many things that no one actually intended” (1994, 444). Again, the relative success of various members of the football figuration to achieve their (often conflicting) aims is explored throughout this study.

A Developmental Approach This thesis is further shaped by another key tenet of the figurational approach: the understanding that “present events illuminate the understanding of the past, and immersion in the past illuminates the present” (Elias, 1994, 513). This approach is based on the premise that football refereeing, like any sport or other feature of social life, is a social process which cannot be explained without reference to the way it has developed over time. As Elias (1994, 515) simply expresses it: “movements of the “present”... are all seen in a new light when viewed as moments in that stream that we variously call „the past‟ or „history‟”. The developmental approach adopted in this study illuminates when, how and why refereeing has come to be seen as a problem. As such, the historical dimension provides a “comparative frame of reference which can highlight what, if any, the distinctive features of the contemporary phenomenon really are” (Dunning, Murphy and Williams, 1988, 2). What might be described as the „hallmark‟ of developmental accounts is also present in this thesis, in that an attempt is made “to avoid the mistake of explaining a long-standing social phenomenon with deep historical

19 roots solely by reference to social processes in the recent past” (Dunning et al, 1988, 2).

In this context and, again, as Dunning et al (1988, 8) observe in relation to hooliganism, the media treatment of refereeing “creates specific difficulties as far as sociological analysis is concerned”. For media reports “help to shape the attitudes [towards] and perceptions [of]” (Dunning et al, 1988, 8-9) refereeing issues in the minds of administrators, fans and other members of the football network. Media coverage of football has, over time, become an increasingly important factor in the construction and perception of refereeing as a problem. The change in media reporting which Dunning et al note in relation to football hooliganism was part of a general shift “particularly in the popular press, in the direction of less factually detailed, more sensationalistic reporting” (1988, 11). As such, this change is evident in the way football has been reported more generally and specifically in relation to referees. Coupled with the significant increase in the television coverage of elite level football and the concomitant rise in the financial consequences of winning and losing, refereeing problems are often presented as relatively modern phenomena. The historical dimension of this study takes account of the way media coverage of refereeing issues has contributed to „the problem‟ but also attempts to debunk the common sense understandings that the problem is „new‟. So, a significant proportion of this thesis is devoted to an examination of the more long-term, fundamental causes of such problems. This thesis attempts to explore the causes – “the past and present social roots” of refereeing problems “more deeply than has been done so far” (Dunning Murphy and Williams, 1988, 5).

The Civilising Process Many developmental studies1 of sports to date have focused on the way in which the transformation of folk games into various modern sports provide empirical support for Elias‟s central thesis concerning civilising processes. Briefly summarised, Elias‟s central argument is that there has been an

20 empirically observable decline in most people‟s propensity for obtaining pleasure from taking part in and observing physical violence; a decrease in people‟s „threshold of repugnance‟. Elias‟s claims are culturally and historically specific: he suggests this decline has occurred in the most powerful societies of Western Europe since the Middle Ages. As Dunning puts it, “far from being some kind of fully fledged and universally applicable construct, the theory of civilising processes as it stands at present is strictly delimited in terms of time and space” (Dunning, 1999, 43). Elias argues that processes of state formation, in particular the “monopolization of and centralization of taxes and physical force” (Elias, 1994, 443), have been accompanied by “a change in human conduct and sentiment in a quite specific direction” (Elias, 1994, 443). This long-term process involved “the refinement of manners and social standards and an increase in the social pressure on people to exercise stricter, more continuous and more even self- control over their feelings and behaviour” (Murphy et al, 2000, 93). Concomitant with these processes were processes of parliamentarization and sportization in 18th century , within which the development of sports can be located and understood. As Elias put it, during this period:

military skills gave way to the verbal skills of debate ... rhetoric and persuasion ... which required greater restraint all round and identified this change ... clearly as a civilising spurt. It was this change, the greater sensitivity with regard to the use of violence which, reflected in the social habitus of individuals, also found expression in the development of their pastimes. The „parliamentarization‟ of the landed classes of England had its counterpart in the „sportization‟ of their pastimes (Elias, 1986: 34; Dunning, 1999: 56).

Where relevant in this thesis, reference is made to the way in which Elias‟s theory can help understand and explain changes to the Laws of the Game. In this context attention is paid to the way that certain law changes can be explained by reference to shifting social attitudes towards violence. However, such issues are not the central focus in this thesis and as such, the primary

21 concern here has not been to test the validity of this aspect his theory. Given that such an approach most often features in developmental accounts of sports, the alternative approach adopted here requires some explanation.

The central reason for not focusing exclusively on the ways that the development of match officiating and the Laws of the Game relate to civilising processes is that, to a large extent, much of this territory has been previously covered. As Murphy and Sheard have argued (forthcoming, 1) figurational sociology has been characterised “by some people as being overly concerned with civilising processes, violence and violence control”. Whilst such an assessment does not adequately “convey the richness of the figurational approach... it is nevertheless true that figurational sociologists have had much to say about civilising and de-civilising processes and violence control” (forthcoming, 1). In particular, the key text by Dunning and Sheard (1979) explores in depth the development of football and rugby in this regard, whilst football is also of concern in a number of other works (see, for example, Dunning (1999a), Elias (1986b) and Elias and Dunning (1986b)).

The project undertaken here has not, however, been concerned with explicitly „testing‟ Elias‟s theory. In this sense, this thesis might, at first sight, be seen to fall foul of the criticisms raised by Jary, who has suggested:

Elias and Dunning sometimes assume rather than research the operation of the „civilizing process‟ in their explanatory accounts of specific changes... [they] tend to proceed by the careful selection of cases merely to „illustrate‟ rather than in any way „test‟ the propositions which enter their general thesis (Jary, 1987, 568).

It is certainly the case that the evidence on the development of match officiating discussed, in particular, in chapters Three and Four of this thesis offers further empirical support for Elias‟s notion of the civilising process and, as an aspect of that theory, processes of sportisation. The necessary links between theory and the empirical data are therefore discussed in that context.

22 However, more recent work by Harvey (2001) and Goulstone (2000) has critiqued aspects of the empirical work undertaken by Dunning and Sheard (1979), whilst Curry (2002), Dunning and Curry (2002) and Dunning (2001) have offered counter critiques. These texts are discussed here where relevant and, in this sense, the relative adequacy of the central organising concept of the civilising process as an explanatory framework is critically examined. Importantly, the critiques raised by Goulstone and Harvey are drawn on and their implications for the theoretical framework are incorporated into that discussion. In this way, it is argued that the pitfalls identified by Jary are, to some extent, avoided here - although how successfully that is achieved is of course a matter for others to judge.

Further, that this thesis does not explicitly set out to test the theoretical framework is not to suggest that Elias‟s theory is irrefutably „proven‟, or that further work on the development of football is not necessary. Rather, as Dunning has suggested, it would be inaccurate to argue that “our understanding of civilizing and de-civilizing processes at the moment is anything more than rudimentary” (Dunning, 1999a, 41). In other words, it is understood that, like all knowledge, our understandings of civilising and de- civilising trends are provisional. The relative adequacy of Elias‟s framework remains open to contestation and revision through further theoretically oriented empirical research. It is simply the case that this task has not been at the forefront of this research, but that other questions have been deemed more relevant. So, as noted, in this study, other aspects of the figurational approach have been drawn on more heavily in order to understand and explain the development of refereeing.

Involvement and Detachment The concepts of involvement and detachment are key tenets of the figurational approach towards research and are another aspect of Elias‟s effort to avoid unhelpful dichotomies in sociological research. Below I outline the

23 concepts of involvement and detachment and examine the ways they inform this research.

Elias re-conceptualised the traditional debate on the role of values in sociology, which has been characterised by a polarisation of the concepts “subjectivity” and “objectivity”. This traditional dichotomy forces us to think in terms of a clear-cut division between, either, the view that the sociologist must strive to be objective and „value free‟, or the view that it is impossible to escape a subjective viewpoint. As Murphy (1994) has noted, these static categories can be summarised as, on the one hand, the position of objectivity - that the facts speak for themselves, and on the other, the position of subjectivity, that we inevitably see the world through value laden eyes, that we select evidence to support our preconceptions and prejudices, and that we are blind to insights that challenge our view. Elias encourages us to think in terms of more fluid and complex balances (Dunning, 1992, 244). Elias (1987b) proposed that we should avoid the „all or nothing‟ polarity which is linguistically inherent in the terms objectivity and subjectivity, suggesting that we should think instead in terms of explanations of „varying degrees of adequacy‟. To emphasise this, Elias introduced the terms involvement and detachment, which can be understood as positions on a continuum, rather than polar opposites. As such, the concept can be understood as relational and processual. Elias rejected the notion that it was possible, or indeed desirable, to obtain complete detachment - and indeed suggested it is often necessary to achieve “insider status” to facilitate the research process. He emphasised the balance between involvement and detachment, and his rejection of the notion that it is possible or indeed desirable to become completely detached. He wrote:

The problem confronting [social scientists] is not simply to discard [their more involved, political] role in favour of...a more detached, [scientific one]. They cannot cease to take part in, and to be affected by, the social and political affairs of their group and their time. Their own participation and involvement,

24 moreover, is itself one of the conditions for comprehending the problems they try to solve as scientists. For, ...in order to understand how human beings experience their own and other groups, and one cannot know without active participation and involvement (Elias, 1987d, 16, quoted by Dunning, 1992, 251).

The concept of involvement and detachment is based on Elias‟s belief that “the capacity for distancing oneself from the situation of the moment is a human universal” (Dunning, 1992, 246), and that “a greater or lesser capacity for detachment is a property of all human beings, part of the condition of being human” (ibid., 246). As Dunning has noted; detachment is always blended with involvement, adult behaviour normally lies between the two extremes, and the balance between detachment and involvement varies “among individuals and societies and groups” (1992, 247).

In his account of „The Fishermen in the Maelstrom‟ (1987a), Elias argued that by controlling our emotional involvement with the processes we study, we are more likely to develop a more realistic, “reality congruent” analysis of these processes. Further, he argued the higher the level of emotional involvement, the higher the risk of a distorted analysis. Essentially, Elias suggests that by standing back and achieving a relatively high level of detachment, we may increase our understanding of social processes, and may potentially facilitate a greater level of control over the processes we are studying. In terms of sociological research, Elias suggested that we should seek to resolve practical and political problems not directly, but by means of a detour - a “detour via detachment” (Elias, 1987b). Dunning further adds that we may strive “to take the detour via detachment in order to maximise the degree of reality congruence of [our] findings, that is to make these findings correspond as far as possible to the objects themselves rather than to [our] personal fantasies and feelings or to personal and/or group interests and myths of various kinds” (Dunning, 1992, 253).

25 Elias argued that we should put practical, personal, and political concerns to one side for the duration of our research. He maintained that the point of sociological analysis was to improve the capacity for collective control over human social relations, suggesting that an increased awareness of the dynamics of social relationships makes it more possible and likely that we can lessen the extent to which those dynamics toss us wherever they will. He noted:

Over a long time span social sequences proceed blindly, without guidance. The task of sociological research is to make these blind, uncontrolled processes more accessible to human understanding by explaining them, and to enable people to orientate themselves within the interwoven social web - which, though created by their own needs and actions, is still opaque to them - and so better to control it (Elias, 1978, 153-4).

Research carried out from a relatively detached position is more likely to result in greater object adequacy, and this may in turn, provide a more adequate basis for the formation of relevant policy. For as Murphy (1994) has suggested, where policy is formulated in an emotionally charged situation, where policy makers are under pressure to “do something”, there is a high chance that the policy, not based on a clear understanding, will be poorly conceived, and will not be very effective. Policy may then produce „undesirable‟ unintended consequences. This is particularly pertinent in relation to the „pressure cooker‟ atmosphere of Premier League football and, as such, here an effort is made to understand the long term development of refereeing issues from a relatively detached perspective.

Whilst, as the above discussion indicates, Elias and figurational sociologists have had much to say on the „theory‟ of involvement and detachment, as Rojek (1986) has argued, they have had less to say on how researcherS might go about achieving a relatively high level of detachment and, it might be added, on how we „know‟ we have achieved this. Some figurational sociologists have begun to address the first aspect of this issue. Maguire

26 (1988) and Dunning (1999), for example, suggest that a developmental approach can - but does not axiomatically - facilitate the process of achieving a higher degree of detachment. This caveat – that adopting a particular approach can but does not necessarily facilitate a higher degree of detachment - is a crucial point, but it often seems to have been skirted over in figurational accounts.

Whilst authors might state, for example, that a „detour via detachment‟ has been undertaken, often little explanation or reflection is offered into how and why particular processes actually result in relatively high degree of detachment being achieved2. Most often there is an implicit assumption that because a certain approach has been adopted (i.e. a developmental approach), ergo a relatively high degree of detachment has been achieved. In this sense, issues of transparency and reflexivity3 do not seem to have been adequately addressed in figurational accounts. I would argue that I have striven to achieve a relatively high degree of detachment throughout this project, but the question of whether or not I have achieved this – and therefore can say „I have achieved a relatively high level of detachment‟ - is best assessed by the readers of this study. It seems that the best measure of the extent to which that has been achieved is through a critical evaluation of this thesis, not through any claim I might make on my own behalf (Roderick, 2003).

Coupled with this issue, with the exception of Green (2000b) and Roderick (2003), there has been a neglect of issues of involvement and detachment in relation to the practical aspects of doing research, particularly in terms of face to face encounters between „the researcher and the researched‟ in interview settings. Different issues and problems around involvement and detachment would seem to be raised in the context of, for example, an encounter with an interviewee talking about personal issues in their lives than those raised in a comparative study of newspaper archives. Indeed, the practical aspects of interviewing raise some questions about the guiding principle that researchers should attempt to achieve a relatively high degree of detachment

27 during the research process. In other words, might a relatively high degree of involvement in these contexts actually be desirable? (Roderick, 2003, 74-75). Elias stressed that gaining insider status could be a necessary prerequisite to gaining access to particular research settings, whilst other figurationalists (i.e., Maguire and Mansfield, 1998, 119; Roderick, 2003, 76) note that the balance between involvement and detachment shifts during the research process. But to my knowledge, with the exception of Roderick (2003), neither Elias nor figurational sociologists more generally appear to have explored issues around „increased involvement‟ and how this might aid understanding and the development of more reality congruent knowledge. Given the stress Elias placed on the two way process or interplay between theory and research, the general lack of consideration of these kinds of issues by figurational sociologists is a notable omission. These issues are discussed further at the end of this chapter, alongside my own reflections on the process of „doing‟ research and, in particular, of interviewing referees4. In the next section, the methods I have used to investigate the development of refereeing are outlined and the connections between theory and method are drawn out.

Method As Maynard (1989, 198-199) has noted, discussions of the methods through which research was done have traditionally presented a “rather sanitised image of research” when, in reality, the process is often a “most complex and messy business”. This thesis was certainly the outcome of a process more adequately described by the latter phrase and, as such, the problems encountered during its completion are discussed here. The various methodological tools used are detailed below. As noted, this account of the range of sources used and the way in which they were analysed is included here in order to make the research process as transparent as possible. I have attempted to detail each aspect of the research process in order that readers might be in a position to critically evaluate the ways that my methods have shaped my account of the development of refereeing and refereeing problems.

28 It is hoped that by outlining these aspects of the research process and reflecting on my own position as the researcher, readers will be better placed to judge the relative adequacy of my conclusions and how my values might have shaped those conclusions. Prior to that, the way in which the theoretical framework has shaped the approach taken here is outlined.

The Figurational Approach to Theory, Method and ‘Scientific Knowledge’ Dunning et al (1991, 469) describe their approach towards method in their work on hooliganism as „catholic‟ and a similar attitude informed the range of methods utilised for this study. As the authors note, such an approach has some parallels with Denzin‟s concept of triangulation. This use of different sources was not based on any notion that, by using a variety of sources and methods, I might be able to present an analysis of the „whole picture‟ (Silverman, 2000, 99). It would be impossible to „capture‟ the „complete picture‟ of the football figuration, for it is hugely complex, constantly shifting and comprised of „never-ending‟ interdependency ties. No such „whole picture‟ exists. Likewise, there is no absolute „truth‟ to be discovered about the development of refereeing, no absolute explanation about how, why and when refereeing became an issue. This understanding was informed by Elias‟s conception of „science‟ and in particular, scientists as the “destroyers of myths”. He argued:

By factual observation, [scientists] endeavour to replace myths, religious ideas, metaphysical speculations and all unproven images of natural processes with theories – testable, verifiable and correctable by factual observation. Science‟s task of hunting down myths and exposing general beliefs as unfounded in fact will never be finally accomplished (Elias, 1978, 52).

In line with the figurational conception of „scientific knowledge‟, the analysis and explanations offered here are understood to be relatively adequate and remain to be contested, developed and advanced by further theoretically guided empirical research. The range of sources utilised here are analysed in

29 an effort to provide a relatively „reality congruent‟ assessment of the development of refereeing and refereeing problems.

This approach was further informed by the figurational principle that it is not method but discovery that legitimates research as „scientific‟. In line with these beliefs, the figurational approach to research methods embodies, for example, the understanding that the quantitative/qualitative dichotomy which characterises much discussion of methodology is a false one. For, it is the case that all researchers bring to their research values and beliefs which, regardless of whether they adopt qualitative or quantitative methods, will shape their questions and frame their hypotheses to a greater or lesser extent. This view is, of course, not unique to the figurational sociologist; for example, Silverman argues that the traditional „polar‟ view of quantitative/qualitative methods assembles “groups of sociologists into „armed camps‟ unwilling to learn from each other” (2000, 11). Likewise, Hammersley has argued “the retreat into paradigms effectively stultifies debate and hampers progress” (1992, 182). The debate within sociology over the validity of particular data derived from either quantitative or qualitative methods most often focuses on how „scientific‟ (i.e., in traditional terms, how „objective‟) particular methods are. Elias was more concerned to assess research in terms of its “contribution to the progress of scientific knowledge” (Elias, 1978, 51). Within such a framework, the „validity‟ or relative adequacy of research is measured in terms of:

the relationship of newer findings to older available knowledge. This is not something which can be expressed in static polarities like „true‟ and „false‟, but only by demonstrating the difference between old and new; this becomes apparent through the dynamics of scientific processes, in the course of which theoretical and empirical knowledge becomes more extensive, more correct, and more adequate” (Elias, 1978, 53).

The figurational epistemological position revealed in this analysis is, like any other, open to contestation and, like any other, requires elucidation. And,

30 whilst sharing Elias‟s belief that „findings‟ rather than „method‟ legitimates research as „scientific‟, I would argue that, to date, this epistemological position has not been adequately explained or justified by figurational sociologists. For, the suggestion that the relative adequacy of newer findings in relation to older ones “becomes apparent through the dynamics of scientific processes” is rather vague and, as such, unhelpful for the researcher engaged in „doing‟ research. In this sense, it is argued that Elias and figurational sociologists more generally have devoted inadequate attention to the processes through which we come to know how we „know‟ whether newer findings are “more extensive, more correct and more adequate” than older ones5.

These issues point to the fact that the „belief‟ that findings rather than method legitimates research as scientific should not preclude the need to look closely at the methods through which newer findings are „achieved‟, or how they come to be understood as more adequate, etc., than older findings. I might, for example, present a seemingly compelling account of the development of refereeing problems which provided the empirical evidence to support my claims that such problems could, to a large extent, be explained by X, Y and Z. My case might be well argued, with the empirical evidence presented to the reader to support those arguments. But how would the reader know that my explanations were any more adequate than those that had come before? For, the journey towards “more extensive, more correct, and more adequate” knowledge is not necessarily unilinear. Whilst all accounts necessarily present empirical data selectively, my „compelling account‟ might be based on highly selective evidence, chosen to support my own preconceived ideas about referees. As such, I might present „new‟ findings that were more extensive, but less correct, less adequate than existing ones. But how would the readers of my „compelling account‟ come to know this?

In order to judge the „relative accuracy‟ of new findings it is not simply enough to look at the ways they relate to „older‟ findings. Without paying due

31 attention to the methods, procedures and processes through which new findings are reached, it is impossible to judge their relative adequacy. Without a clear exposition of the sources I have consulted and the reasons why, or of the ways in which I have used the evidence and analysed it, readers of this study would not be in position to consider what evidence (which might have challenged my account) I might have ignored, or how my values might have influenced which sources I consulted and my analysis of the data. These issues point to the need for figurational researchers, like all others striving to provide “more extensive, more correct, and more adequate” scientific knowledge, to present their methods and findings in a way which is as „transparent‟ as possible. Readers and future researchers will only be in a position to judge the relative adequacy of the findings of this or any other study by knowing the processes through which they were reached. Describing the methods and procedures utilised means that others can, potentially, re-examine particular sources, or replicate procedures and subsequently measure their own findings against those presented.

In line with this, in the following section I attempt to present an accurate account of the sources I have consulted, the processes through which I analysed them and of my own „position‟ as the researcher. I therefore attempt to make the research process as „transparent‟ as I can, in order to place readers in a position to be able to judge the relative adequacy of my explanations and analysis. As noted, a variety of methods were used during the course of this research. Initially, a brief outline of these sources is given in order to orientate the reader through the following section which includes the „detail‟ on how these sources were utilised, the methods adopted, the interrelated processes of data collection and analysis and the ways in which the theoretical framework „shaped‟ the way data were used. At the conclusion of this chapter, some reflections on the research process are offered. The relationship between theory and research and „involvement and detachment‟ is considered in terms of the practical aspects of „doing‟ research. Finally, a reflexive

32 account of my own position as the researcher is provided in an attempt to enhance the transparency of my account of the research process.

Empirical Data - Sources Consulted At the outset of the project, contemporary newspaper reports on refereeing were collated onto an electronic database and categorised according to emerging themes. Both contemporary and historical (auto)biographies of players, managers, referees, football administrators and media personnel were consulted. A range of historical sources was also utilised, namely: accounts of the development of football; early versions of the Laws of the Game; the minutes of the (national) Referees Union/Referees‟ Association (RU/RA) from inception in 1908 through to 1978; the (RA/RU) journal, The Football Referee (1913-14), the minutes of local referees‟ associations; selected FA & Football League Minutes; selected newspaper reports on refereeing in ; RA/RU memoranda and FA publications, such as instructions to referees and manuals of guidance for referees; The Times coverage of the World Cup from its inception in 1930 to 1998, and; a mini case study of a television match commentary. In the 2000-01 season, I conducted 23 semi- structured interviews with individuals involved in elite level refereeing. The interviews were recorded and then transcribed and the written interview transcripts were categorised around previously identified and emergent themes.

Filemaker Pro Database of Newspaper Coverage of Refereeing Issues At the outset of the research, I began collating newspaper articles on referees and other aspects of football6. These included match reports, interviews and „comment‟ style pieces. After discussion with my supervisor and the IT advisor at the Centre for Research into Sport and Society (CRSS), I set up a database on a Macintosh computer (later transferred to a PC) in order to categorise each article. „Filemaker Pro‟ software was used to set up the database, within which a „record‟ was created for each article. Each article

33 (record) was read and categorised according to its source and content. Categories, or „fields‟, were set up to „mark‟ the date of the article and the newspaper it came from. Fields were also set up to enable me to mark organisations referenced, such as the PFA, FA, RA or FIFA, the names of clubs and specific individuals and the League played in. The most significant task was establishing the field to enable me to search for and cross reference the content of each article according to specific themes. At the outset of the project, the process of identifying the categories to include in this field was informed by discussions with my supervisor and my own „common sense‟ understanding of what were likely to be useful categories. These, for example, included „cards/bookings‟, „referee quotes‟, „diving‟ and „match assessors‟ (see Appendix 1 for the list of categories).

For the first few weeks, (early August, 1997) I read the sports sections of the weekday editions of the broadsheets The Daily Telegraph, The Guardian and The Observer as well as the tabloid, The Daily Mirror7. Initially, I categorised each article on paper, and then inputted these data onto the computer (see Appendix 2). I then discovered that all of these newspapers and others were available to access free of charge via the internet. So, from August, 1997- August 2001 I accessed the online editions of the above papers, along with The Times, The Sunday Times and The Sunday Telegraph. I was then able to read and categorise each article on computer, directly enter details into the database and print off a copy to file manually. This had three implications: firstly, it meant the process of entering data became less time consuming. Secondly it allowed me relatively easy access to a greater range of sources. Thirdly, the online editions of the broadsheet newspapers also had searchable archives, allowing me to quickly access articles about specific incidents in previous seasons.

The size of this database covering the 1997-98 season (a total of 4605 records were created, 594 of which were about referees) led to the decision to start a new database for each season and, subsequently, to split each season in half

34 (i.e., to start a new database at the mid-point of the season). This made searching the databases for specific themes more manageable. Similarly, the importance of certain issues and themes became apparent as I became more familiar with the data and, through the duration of the research, I was able to add new, more specific categories, making cross referencing articles easier and more useful. Thus, whilst I initially had a category for „cards/bookings‟, it became apparent that this was too general to facilitate useful cross referencing. Thus additional categories were added, such as „diving‟, „hard men‟, and „attacks on referees‟. When particular incidents arose, for example, Paolo di Canio‟s „push‟ on referee Paul Alcock8, both names were added to the „name‟ field, allowing me to search for and easily access articles on that incident. In between August 1997 and August 2001, 5696 articles relating to refereeing were categorised, in total records were created for 22937 football related articles.

Analysis of Database Material Maintaining the database of newspaper articles had a number of benefits, and some drawbacks. Having not researched the subject prior to embarking on this study, the key benefit was to enable me quickly to gain a sense of the recurring themes relating to refereeing in the contemporary print media. The process of entering the details for each article meant that I was reading, analysing and categorising the data from the outset. The process of analysis was, then, begun early in the research process, as recommended by Silverman (2000, 119). Coupled with the work I was doing on other sources, maintaining the database meant that the analysis of data actually pervaded the life of the project, which Coffey and Atkinson suggest is necessary (1996, 10-11, cited by Silverman, 2000, 119), rather than being a discrete stage or phase.

The ongoing analysis of these data gathered from newspapers revealed some of the central themes in this thesis and therefore shaped later stages of data collation and analysis. For example, comparison of match reports revealed the way that a single incident in a game would often be constructed in completely

35 conflicting terms by different reporters, managers and/or players. This pattern of reporting pointed to one of the central issues in this thesis: the issue of interpretation of the Laws of the Game. It also raised questions about the influence of members of the media figuration on conceptions of refereeing as a „problem‟. Similarly, the connections often made between „foreign players‟ and „diving‟ in the press (i.e., simulating injury in order to gain an advantage) led me to think about potential „cultural‟ differences in playing styles, or at least the way in which there were perceived to be cultural differences. I also paid attention to the ways the condemnation of particular fouls and the acceptance of others revealed the existence of a football subculture within which certain types of fouls and styles were „accepted‟ by many players and managers. In turn, I considered the ways in which this might impact on referees. Evidence of players‟ and managers‟ ideologies revealed in these data was analysed in relation to the ideologies of those framing The Laws and implementing them. The conflicting values and beliefs revealed in this comparative analysis offered insights into the emergence of refereeing problems, and as such this issue forms a central theme in this thesis.

The emergence of themes, such as that described above, through my analysis of the newspaper material then gave me a sense of direction and focus when investigating other sources, such as earlier newspapers, referees‟ and players‟ biographies and the archives of various administrative bodies. This was not, however, a one way process. For, whilst the themes identified in the database informed my reading of historical sources, so the material from those historical sources also informed the way I looked at material concerning the contemporary game. Again, this demonstrates the interplay between data analysis and collation. The „validity‟ of the themes I have selected as the most significant is, of course, a matter for others to judge. Whilst the process of entering details of newspaper articles onto the database meant I was constantly „sifting‟ and categorising the data, I did not, for example, attempt to „quantify‟ the data or undertake a comprehensive „content analysis‟. Future

36 researchers might explore the relative adequacy of these findings by undertaking a similar and/or more quantitative analysis of newspaper reports.

The process of maintaining the database also meant I was fully „immersed‟ in the material. This „immersion‟ proved absolutely vital in terms of - eventually – enabling me to feel informed enough to interview elite level referees and those responsible for administrating refereeing. As discussed below, the ongoing process of maintaining the database, in hindsight, came at a cost – in terms of time and the sense of having an overwhelming amount of data. This problem, as Bryman (1995, 99) notes, is often encountered by researchers utilising qualitative methods, for “everything they observe is potentially data”. But the balance or „payoff‟ was that, whilst I could not feasibly „use‟ more than a small percentage of the data gathered, the process of gathering facilitated the process of interviewing referees. It gave me a tremendous amount of „background‟ knowledge within which I was able to contextualise refereeing issues. Additionally, it gave me a real understanding of the way the refereeing problem was constructed in, and by, members of the football- media network. Much of my initial information on the structures, training and changes to the administration of refereeing came from these sources. These factors resulted in a growing confidence that I had a grasp of the pertinent issues I wanted to discuss with referees and referee „administrators‟. In essence, this data gathering exercise contributed to a feeling of confidence that I was informed enough to ask „intelligent‟ questions and make the most of the limited number of interviewees available to participate in the study.

Historical Newspaper Reports Time constraints meant an extensive historical search of newspaper articles was not possible for this project but, along with contemporary newspapers, The Times newspaper was also searched for refereeing related articles, via the CD- ROM The Official Index to The Times 1906-1980. Because there has been an

37 observable increase in football coverage in the newspapers and a shift in the style of reporting (Dunning et al, 1988, 8), I was interested to assess the way this was reflected in the coverage of refereeing issues. In considering how to do this, I was aware that such a comparative search might be time consuming and generate „too much‟ data. For example, an examination of the newspaper coverage of football at five or ten year intervals would generate an enormous amount of data. As such, I restricted this search to coverage in The Times of the World Cup from inception in 1930 through to 1998. The tournament occurs only every 4 years for one month, therefore providing a more manageable amount of data. The „size‟ of articles was analysed along with the content and nature of coverage. This considered aspects such as the criticism of referees and refereeing standards and the ways in which particular ideologies about „foreign players‟ and English „styles‟ of play were evident in such accounts. Again, this informed my analysis of the contemporary material and, as noted, provided additional evidence on the key theme of the interpretation of The Laws. Again, these issues are discussed in the following chapters.

Television Match Commentary: A Mini Case Study In addition to analysing the print media, I had intended to conduct an analysis of a series of television match commentaries (See Colwell, 1999). In practice, time constraints meant that I was unable to fully pursue this idea. However, as I was interested in analysing the ways in which media coverage of football contributes to our understanding of refereeing issues, I did conduct a mini case study in which I analysed a 15 minute extract of a video tape of a live televised match on Sky TV. The commentary within this extract was transcribed alongside written descriptions of the „live action‟, and any replays „consulted‟. Both the match itself, and the 15 minute period to be analysed were selected on the basis that I was aware that there had been a number of controversial refereeing decisions in the game. As such, it is not argued that the extract provides a random or representative „sample‟ of football television

38 commentary. Rather, excerpts from this mini case study are presented to illustrate some of the key themes raised in relation to changes in how refereeing issues are presented within the media.

Literature On the Development of Refereeing The developmental approach framing this study informed the type of literature consulted. As stated in the introduction, much of the „historical‟ literature forms part of the empirical material used throughout this thesis, and so it is not discussed in a discrete literature review here. But the way in which this literature was „used‟ as part of the research process is outlined below. A literature search was carried out on the Sports Discus CD ROM and this was supplemented by Seddon‟s (1995) A Football Compendium: A Comprehensive Guide to the Literature of Association Football. The Sport Discus search revealed a lack of relevant academic literature on refereeing, something which proved to be both a blessing and a curse throughout the research process. At its best it made the process of carrying out this project incredibly exciting and rewarding. The sense of discovery engendered by unearthing and analysing previously undocumented empirical evidence is, after all, an integral element of what „doing‟ this type of research is „about‟. At worst, the limited existing literature meant there were few „shortcuts‟ which would be available to researchers of many other aspects of the game. As a consequence, this study has a far more substantial historical component to it than was envisioned at the outset of the project. Some of the „gaps „ about refereeing in the social histories compiled by Mason (1980), Russell (1995) and Wagg (1984) are thus filled in. Seddon‟s Compendium proved to be invaluable in relation to this aspect of the study. Seddon references numerous sources not catalogued on Sports Discus, or referenced in the bibliographies of existing football histories (because refereeing is generally not discussed therein). These included „obscure‟ early publications on The Laws, pamphlets on „how‟ to referee and referees (auto)biographies. A visit to the FA library/archive also provided access to sources not, apparently, catalogued elsewhere.

39 As with the database, I began consulting and analysing both the historical and contemporary literature early in the research process. I made notes on each source on computer and began grouping quotes around recurrent themes. Some of these themes were evident in the contemporary material, but new themes were also generated by historical sources. In other words, the analysis of the contemporary literature informed the analysis of the historical literature and vice versa. As well as exploring „when‟ refereeing became identified as a „problem‟ in the football literature, this analysis informed my understanding of how refereeing issues have developed over time. The early versions of The FA Laws were consulted in order to trace the development of refereeing and this element of the research was supplemented by reference to the historical literature. Similarly, RA/RU publications, including instructions to referees and manuals of guidance were utilised in order to analyse the ways in which they revealed FA members‟ ideologies about the way the game „should‟ be played and refereed. These issues are not discussed further here, for they form an integral element of the empirical material presented in the main body of this thesis.

(Auto)biographical Accounts Again, the figurational approach underpinning this study informed the decision to explore the interrelationships between different groups within the football world and to explore the ways these groups constructed and contributed to refereeing problems. So, (auto)biographies of players, managers, referees and football administrators were also consulted. This gave me insights into the way refereeing problems have been/are defined by the various members of the football network. Wilkins has highlighted some of the shortcomings of using these types of sources, suggesting their writers are “not usually concerned with producing systematic, impersonal records, so that their descriptions are generally completely subjective, and will be influenced by their personal experiences, attitudes, beliefs and prejudices” (1970, 52). This is of course true of (auto)biographies, as it is of all forms of (socially constructed) knowledge, but this fact does not render such accounts „useless‟

40 as sociological sources. Rather, such accounts reveal insights into the ideologies of those writing them which, in terms of this thesis, can contribute to our understanding of how specific groups (referees, players, managers, etc.) construct and contribute to refereeing problems. As such, in line with figurational understandings of „knowledge‟, these sources were not consulted in the belief that they would reveal „absolute‟ or „essential‟ truths about refereeing issues. Rather, they were utilised in the belief that they might offer insights into “the prevailing values and standards of top flight professional football[ers] [sic] “ (Murphy, 2002, 62). As Wilkins goes on to note, the author will be:

the product of one particular culture, and his [or her] attitudes or opinions will be formed by the society into which he [or she] has been born ... this fact might sometimes be an advantage ... since it is the society as a whole, rather than any particular individual, in which [the sociologist] is interested, and much information may be gleaned about a society by noting the attitudes and opinions of its writers (Wilkins, 1970, 54).

In terms of this research, the use of such sources provided vital insights into the ideologies of the „insiders‟ in the football figuration which might otherwise have been denied to me. For as Parker has noted,

although a vast literature now surrounds the football industry, insightful and substantive revelations regarding the day to day activities of players, coaches and managers are few and far between. As far as English football is concerned, the emergence of such data has been hindered largely by the insular atmosphere created and perpetuated by those living and working in and around the game (http://www2.umist.ac.uk/ sport/Parker.html, accessed 11/2/03).

Gaining insight into the attitudes and ideologies of these football insiders was seen as a vital element of this research. Refereeing issues are often discussed without reference to the complex network of which referees are a part. This research was framed by the understanding that refereeing issues and problems could not be understood by reference to referees‟ experiences and

41 ideologies alone. Rather, the need to gain insights into the prevailing ideologies of the players, managers, administrators and media personnel who constitute the football figuration, as well as referees, was recognised as an integral aspect of this project. However, the „insular‟ culture of professional football meant that the prospect of direct access to those constituents, particularly players and managers, was unlikely to be realised.

The Laws of the Game and Minutes Of The Referees’ Union/The Referees’ Association and Local Referees’ Associations Along with the historical and contemporary football literature a number of primary sources were also consulted. Early versions of the FA laws were utilised, as were referees‟ „charts‟ and memoranda. These sources provide the best available evidence on when match officials were introduced into association football and how their duties and responsibilities have changed over time. The minutes of the Referees‟ Union/Referees‟ Association (RU/RA) (1908- present) were heavily drawn on for the historical dimension of this study. I made contact with the RA general secretary, Arthur Smith and arranged a visit to the RA offices in Coventry. I was given permission to photocopy the RU/RA minute books and was thus able to gather a vast amount of data and analyse it over time9. I also contacted 69 local referees‟ societies/associations via their websites in order to gather data on the history of such organisations. Of these, 40 responded, providing information ranging from basic details about when societies were formed and the number of members, through to potted histories and society magazines. I was also given access to the minute books of a number of societies. The way these sources were utilised is outlined below.

Analysis of Minutes Analysis of the RU minutes was carried out at several levels. The first aimed to build up an understanding of the history and development of the RU, something not previously addressed in the existing literature. Secondly, my

42 reading of the data informed a selective consultation of other primary sources. Thus, particular incidents mentioned in the minutes were „followed up‟ and cross-referenced via a selective reading of the FA and Football League minutes and of newspaper reports in The Times. This made the data available in these latter sources manageable for the purposes of this project, although there are some shortcomings evident in such an approach. Thirdly, the RU minutes were analysed in order to explore the relationships between the national organisation and local bodies. Close scrutiny of the national body‟s minutes was, as discussed below, carried out alongside analysis of local organisations‟ histories and minute books. Numerous offers were made to allow me to access the minute books of local societies, but due to time and financial constraints, the minutes from two local organisations (Sheffield & District RA and the Tonbridge RA) were studied in depth, whilst data on other societies were garnered from potted histories and correspondence with local members.

The data on local organisations, coupled with consultation of the national body‟s minute books, facilitated a preliminary analysis of the issues of concern to referees throughout the 20th century (see Chapter Six). Once again, my reading of data on the local associations‟ shaped my analysis of the national body‟s minutes and vice versa. For example, having begun to examine the „potted‟ histories and minutes of numerous local referees‟ societies, it became apparent that many of the issues local members were concerned about, such as fees and assaults, were rarely addressed by the national body. This seemed particularly striking, since the RU was set up to „protect‟ and „promote‟ the interests of referees. As such, I began to probe the reasons for the apparent discrepancy between the aims of the national body and the „reality‟ of what its members achieved.

Whilst the use of various „accounts‟ provided useful insights into the relationships between members of the RU and football‟s administrative

43 bodies, a more detailed consultation of the minutes of these latter organisations might have resulted in a more „balanced‟ view of those relationships. For, it might be argued that my reading and analysis was weighted heavily in favour of those issues which referees raised through the RU, rather than the issues the FA and the Football League raised about referees (i.e., I engaged in a detailed analysis of the RU/RA minutes, but only a selective analysis of FA/Football League minutes). For the purposes of this preliminary investigation into refereeing issues, this „bias‟ is perhaps acceptable – and, indeed, was necessary given the time constraints of this study. But in terms of further research, the minutes of football‟s administrative bodies might usefully be analysed to explore the extent to which issues raised by members of these organisations were addressed - or not – by the RU. This issue only really became apparent to me as I was writing up this thesis.

Interviews During the 2000-2001 season, I conducted 23 semi structured interviews with individuals involved in elite level refereeing. These were: 8 Premier League referees, 9 Premier League Match Delegates (previously „Match Observers‟) and 3 Premier League Referee Coaches. Demographic detail on these participants is not provided here in order to protect their identity. I also interviewed Philip Don, the then Head of Refereeing at the Premier League, John Baker, Head of Refereeing at the FA and Nic Coward, Company Secretary of the FA.

44 Accessing Interview Participants and Ethical Considerations: Issues of Confidentiality and Informed Consent Initially, contact was made with Philip Don, the then Premier League head of refereeing in order to request an interview with him, to discuss the research project and to explore the possibility of making contact with and interviewing Premier League officials. This meeting addressed several key issues. The first was to gather information in an interview with Don on the „details‟ of the organisational and training structures of elite level refereeing and on his role as head of refereeing. These structures had changed rapidly and significantly in the period I had been doing this research. The second was to gain insights into what Don saw as important issues for contemporary referees. For whilst I had, by this stage, a relatively clear idea about the issues which I thought were important to explore, rather than imposing those ideas on referees, I was keen to gain insights into the issues which the practitioners themselves felt were important. These issues are discussed in Chapter Ten of this thesis.

The third significant aspect of this meeting was to establish my own credibility as an informed researcher, and to convey the aims of the project. In particular, I discussed my aim to gain insight and understanding into the experiences of referees. I sought to reassure him that I was not looking to sensationalise and exploit any access to officials that he might grant me, but that the aim of the project was to „understand‟ and „explain‟ refereeing problems. This process was achieved by discussing the way I intended to conduct the interviews (discussed below) and what would happen to any interview material. Gaining Don‟s consent to interview referees was an essential aspect of the research process, for without his involvement it would have been extremely difficult for me to make contact with referees. In this sense, Don was a „gatekeeper‟ to the referees and, in line with the British Sociological Association‟s Statement of Ethical Practice, efforts were made to ensure I adhered to:

the principle of obtaining informed consent directly from the research participants to whom access is required, while at the

45 same time taking account of the gatekeepers‟ interest (http://www.britsoc.org.uk/about/ethic.htm).

I sent „packs‟ of information10 for each referee for Don to distribute to referees. This ensured that referees‟ contact details were not given to me without their consent. Rather, referees could opt to provide those details once they had been informed about the nature of the study, about myself, and about how information provided in the interviews would be used. All twenty two Premier League referees were sent this information. Ten referees responded agreeing to be interviewed. One of these made contact by phone indicating his willingness to participate but did not then call back, and one of those who had provided contact details did not respond to phone messages requesting he made contact and so did not take part. As discussed below, during the course of the interviews with referees, it became apparent that match observers and referee coaches were extremely significant constituents in the football figuration, but that I had relatively little information about what they did and on the interrelationships between referees and these individuals. Whilst I probed these issues with referees, I also thought it was important to discuss these processes with match observers and referee coaches themselves. As a consequence I contacted Philip Don to discuss the possibility of interviewing match observers and referee coaches. Once again he facilitated my initial contact with these individuals by distributing packs of information about the research and forms for them to make contact with me.

Attempts were made to involve football managers in the research, initially through the League Managers‟ Association (LMA). Although the LMA chief executive, John Barnwell, was initially open to the possibility of surveying members of his association for their views on refereeing issues, this prospect never came to fruition. In a separate effort to involve managers, I wrote to all of the Premier League managers in the 2000-01 season inviting them to discuss their views on refereeing. The same guarantees regarding anonymity, etc., given to the referees who participated in this study (see below) were

46 offered to managers, but all declined to be interviewed. Whilst in some cases time pressures were offered as explanations for non-involvement, it seems likely that my „outsider‟ status was a significant factor in some managers‟ decisions not to be interviewed. For, whilst a number of the managers were, at the time, often willing to discuss referees in the television and print media, the opportunity to do so in the context of this research was declined. The following examples were given as reasons for non-participation:

The subject of Premier League referees can be delicate and is not a subject I feel would be appropriate to discuss.

And:

The Premier League request clubs to submit a report on referees after every game & I feel that official channel is the best way to convey these feelings11.

Given the willingness of players and managers to comment on referees and refereeing issues in the press and in their (auto)biographies, the absence of direct access to these members of the football network did not mean that their views were not taken into account. The (auto)biographies of these members of the football figuration provide sources of information on their views of refereeing issues which – given their non-involvement in this study - would otherwise have been denied to me. As shall be discussed throughout this thesis, such sources reveal (shifting) attitudes towards referees and to player „discipline‟, for example, and offer insights into the constraints players and managers experience to „win at all costs‟. These issues are explored in an attempt to demonstrate how and why refereeing has achieved „problem status‟ in the contemporary game.

The procedures taken to protect individual referees‟ identities were outlined in the interview with Don, in the letters inviting referees to participate and on my initial meetings with the referees participating. A number of measures were taken to protect the identity of participants. The audio tapes of interviews were kept in a locked filing cabinet and all the references to names,

47 football clubs, dates, places and any other material which could lead the participants to be identified were edited out of the transcripts. No reference was made to the name of the interviewee in the transcripts, rather each participant was given a number (i.e., Premier League referees were PL1, PL2; match observers were MO1, MO2, etc.)

The need to record the interviews was explained to participants, and the procedures for protecting their identity were explained to them. Participants were also informed that they would be sent a copy of the written transcript. I informed them that they could amend the transcript to clarify any points, remove any details which might identify them which I had „missed‟ or not recognised as significant and also to delete any sections which they were not happy to have included in the final transcript. The implications of this are discussed in more detail below.

Additionally, in order that participants were in a position to give their informed consent to participate in the research I tried to ensure that they were aware of relevant issues such as the purpose of the research, what would be involved and how it would be conducted, the number of participants, the time it was likely to take and what would happen to the material collected. This process was again guided and informed by the Data Protection Act (1998) and the British Sociological Association‟s Statement of Ethical Practice, which suggests:

As far as possible sociological research should be based on the freely given informed consent of those studied. This implies a responsibility on the sociologist to explain as fully as possible, and in terms meaningful to participants, what the research is about, who is undertaking and financing it, why it is being undertaken, and how it is to be promoted (http://www.britsoc.org.uk/ about/ethic.htm).

I also provided referees with a copy of the interview schedule without prompts (see Appendix 3). My aim in doing this was to give them a clear idea about the issues I intended to cover in the interviews, but, without prompts,

48 the interview schedule was sufficiently vague to mean that respondents could not „rehearse‟ and then mechanically repeat an answer to an, as yet, non- specific question. Other precautions taken in relation to this issue of informed consent included ensuring that participants were aware that they did not have to answer all the questions, that the recording of the interview could be stopped at any time at their request and that they had the right to withdraw at any time from the research. One aspect of this process, as noted, involved sending the written transcripts back to participants in order for them to check, amend and to give their consent that any of the material could be included in the final thesis. This also allowed both myself and the participants to clarify any points which were unclear and on several occasions to pursue additional issues which had occurred to me as I was transcribing the tapes, through written questions.

The issue of informed consent is, like all aspects of the research process, a contested area and the decisions made on such issues are, ultimately, shaped by the researcher‟s own moral or ethical stance. One colleague felt it was a „time consuming mistake‟, which I „would learn from‟ to allow participants to check their transcripts and potentially alter them, whilst another questioned whether I would offer „more powerful‟ individuals the same degree of control over the material used. Such questions do not have straightforward „yes‟ or ‟no‟, or „right‟ or „wrong‟ answers, for decisions about such issues always have to be addressed in relation to the area being investigated and the participants involved.

I was aware that referees rarely gave interviews in the press and that there might be significant repercussions for the participants if they expressed critical views which might then be traced back to them, particularly if those views related to their training and the way they were assessed by their superiors. In the context of this project, I doubt whether I would have been granted the access to interview referees without such guarantees and this degree of „control‟ over their transcripts. Whether interviewees would have

49 felt safe enough to participate and speak „openly‟ without such guarantees also seems unlikely. Verbal feedback from several of the participants in this study indicated that such measures had been instrumental in their decision to agree to take part in the research. It is possible that affording participants this level of control over their interviews „compromised‟ the data, meaning less was „revealed‟ than might have been. But it may have actually meant that more was revealed because, via these measures, I afforded them a relatively high degree of control over their transcripts and established a degree of trust with them which would otherwise have been lacking. In two cases (out of the 23 interviews), sentences were retracted by participants and thus „erased‟ from the transcripts. In practice, then, only a tiny percentage of the totality of what was said was excluded from data used in this study. The majority of participants made only „clarifying‟ amendments. It seems unlikely that more data would have been revealed without these guarantees and „checks‟ for participants.

Interview Procedures All participants who provided contact details were contacted by telephone in order to arrange a meeting to conduct the interview. In all cases I offered to meet with referees at a time and location convenient to them. In some cases, I travelled to participants‟ homes or workplaces. A number of participants offered to meet at locations closer to my home (Sheffield), for example, if they were refereeing games at a location „near‟ to Sheffield. In these circumstances, interviews were conducted in hotel reception areas and bars. At the outset of the interviews, I explained the need to record the interviews and the procedures which would be followed to ensure their anonymity was protected. Consent forms were then signed by myself and the interviewee, one to be kept by participants and one to be retained by me. Following each interview, I transcribed the audiotape verbatim, with the exception of any information which could have led to participants being identified. A copy of the transcript was then sent to the interviewee to check and make any

50 amendments. I then amended returned transcripts in accordance with the interviewees‟ wishes.

Devising the Interview Schedule The semi structured interview was chosen as a tool for this aspect of the research because of its flexibility. It ensures that particular issues identified by the researcher are covered, but unlike a „fixed‟ structure, it allows the interviewer and the interviewee to pursue areas which had not necessarily been envisaged as „important‟ prior to the interview (Goode and Hatt, 1952, 186). As well as gathering details about the individual careers of referees, thus allowing an exploration of the “interrelationships between past and present “ (Green, 2000b, 8), the semi-structured interview allows the researcher to pursue interesting topics and for the interviewee to elaborate ideas in a relatively open-ended setting. As Roderick puts it:

Semi-structured interviews enable the researcher to tease out complex views and explore with the respondent the wider networks of relationships in which they are embedded (2003, 65).

As noted, because I carried out interviews late in the research process, I had by then identified significant themes from my analysis of the historical and contemporary literature and various media sources. Coupled with this, my interview with Philip Don had raised new areas which I felt might usefully be explored with referees, such as training processes and the way their performances were assessed. The interview schedule was organised around these themes and categories – such as relationships with players, with other referees, and participants‟ views on potential „solutions‟ to refereeing problems. In turn, the interviews also generated new avenues of inquiry which were then incorporated into subsequent interviews. For example, the range of participants in this study, some relatively recently „qualified‟ as Premier League referees, some nearing retirement age12 meant their experiences of officiating at the elite level varied considerably. These differences generated interesting issues about the way referees felt they were

51 perceived by players. The semi-structured format enabled them to discuss these experiences in depth. It also, for example, allowed me to explore issues which had not previously occurred to me, such as how the more experienced referees‟ had adapted their refereeing „style‟ over time in response to the changing perceptions of players.

Similarly, in my initial interviews referees were apparently reticent to discuss their experiences of the training and evaluation procedures. As well as this being interesting in itself, it also prompted me to restructure my questions on this issue and also to reorder the interview schedule, so that it came later in the interview when I felt referees might be a little more „sure‟ of me and perhaps more willing to „open up‟. This underlines how the process of interviewing evolved, as later interviews were informed by my experience of earlier ones. As I grew more confident, I was able to become „more flexible‟ and thus stick less rigidly to my interview schedule in order to pursue alternative themes and issues. Similarly, as noted, the process of interviewing referees alerted me to issues about these processes of evaluation which prompted me to seek the views of other members of the figuration; namely match observers and coaches.

The processes of transcribing and repeatedly re-reading the transcripts generated further questions and avenues for investigation which were then incorporated into the interview schedule. In particular, as noted, the constraints experienced by referees in relation to match observers came to be understood as a significant aspect of their refereeing practices which I had not considered adequately. This informed my subsequent analysis of the football figuration and pointed to the need for a „reformulation‟ of my conception of the football network and the power relations „within‟ it. As such, my interview schedule was revised in order to pursue this issue and other members of the figuration (referee coaches, match observers and FA personnel) were interviewed.

52 Analysis and Interpretation of the Interview Data As Green suggests in relation to his research into the „philosophies‟ of physical education teachers, there is a sense in which in trying to make sense of participants‟ observations and experiences “one might impose a rationality upon them that they did not, in fact, possess”. The need to interpret data is, of course, an integral aspect of the research process: if it were not, I would simply present the transcripts in their entirety. As Green goes on to argue:

There is, perhaps, an inevitable limit to people‟s understanding of their situations; „insiders‟ are not always best placed to understand the networks and processes of which they are a part. People‟s involvement lends an opacity to their appreciation of the worlds they inhabit (Green, 2000b, 14).

The „task‟ for sociologists as Green puts it is to make “greater sense of people‟s reality by making it more accessible to sociological research whilst, at the same time, attempting to limit any tendency towards distortion of that reality” (2000b, 14).

In line with this recommendation, the raw data on which my analysis is based are presented alongside the analysis itself, through the use of substantial quotations, in order to place readers in a position to judge the relative adequacy of my analysis and findings in relation to the evidence itself. This approach was informed by Kval „s assertion that, in order to ensure that research provides “methodologically well-substantiated, interesting findings” quoted material should be contextualised and interpreted (Kval , 1996, 257). This approach is followed throughout this thesis, both in relation to the historical literature and the interview material. The process of selecting quotes to illustrate analysis inevitably involves reducing both the volume and complexity of the raw data. In line with Kval ‟s recommendations, I attempt to achieve a balance between quoted material and analysis throughout this thesis (Kval , 1996, 257). As Coyle suggests, by including significant amounts of raw data alongside the analysis, the reader can “judge for themselves

53 whether the interpretations are warranted and can offer alternative interpretations” (Coyle, 1995: 255).

The data generated in the interviews were largely utilised to gain insights into the figurational network of which referees are a part. This aspect of the research was deemed essential to shed light on how referees, match observers and coaches „saw themselves‟ in relation to other members of the football network. Thus in the analysis of the interview material presented in Chapter Ten of this thesis, I attempt to contextualise referees‟, match observers‟ and referee coaches‟ experiences within the relational network of which they are a part. In so doing, the participants‟ thoughts and opinions on their relationships with other members of the football figuration are presented. The extent to which I have made „sense‟ of their experiences and the relative adequacy of my explanations remains open to contestation and revision through further empirical research.

The theoretical „orienting concepts‟ of figurations, interdependencies and power relationships were utilised to guide my analysis of the interview data, just as in my analysis of the data from other sources. As noted, analysis of the sources detailed above had shaped my initial ideas about significant issues and themes which had emerged with more clarity as the project went on. I read and re-read the transcripts and grouped quotes into separate files around each of the interview themes. As the interviews went on, I revised the themes and added new categories. Among these were the relationships between referees and those members of the football figuration who are responsible for their training and assessment. Throughout, I attempted to locate the individuals or groups I was researching within those figurations.

Reflections on the Research Process

In this final section I offer some reflections on the research process. Initially I explore some of the „practical‟ problems encountered during this study. I then consider the interrelationships between „theory‟ and „research‟.

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Practical ‘Constraints’ During the Research Process One of the key practical problems I encountered in the course of this study relates to its „scale‟ and „scope‟. There are two key factors which explain why this study is so broad in scope. Firstly, because no such developmental sociological analysis of refereeing exists, then every piece of data I uncovered seemed to be interesting, novel and relevant and seemed to point to further areas in „need‟ of additional investigation. The second reason relates to my relative inexperience as a researcher. On reflection, one way in which my inexperience affected this study was in terms of my tendency to feel I had to follow up every lead. Although I was analysing the data from the outset, I often found it difficult to recognise when I had collected „enough‟, particularly in the early stages of this project. As the project progressed, I became better able to recognise when I was collecting „more of the same‟ data, rather than uncovering new themes or issues. Below, by reflecting on my use of the newspaper database, I discuss the ways these problems manifested themselves during the research process.

The key problem connected with maintaining the database was the amount of time I allowed it to consume. I became, both in relation to this aspect of data collation and other aspects of the project discussed below, what Back (2002, 3.16) describes as “a fieldwork junkie”. I became unnecessarily „attached‟ to collating articles, resulting in, essentially, „more of the same‟ data. In retrospect, this was connected to a lack of confidence about knowing „what‟ I was going to do with the data. As such, continuing to gather data in this context became a form of procrastination. It made me feel like I was at least „doing something‟, but had a number of unfortunate consequences. One of these was to delay interviewing referees, although, as previously discussed, in some ways this was not necessarily an entirely „negative‟ consequence. But this delay, inevitably, resulted in the completion of this thesis being more protracted than it otherwise might have been. Such retrospective conclusions

55 underline the educational process of “learning by doing” which Phillips and Pugh (1987, 47) identify as an integral aspect of the completion of a PhD.

My increasing experience as I progressed through this study is evident in my different approach to the use of organisations‟ minutes. As discussed earlier, the analysis of the RA/RU minutes pointed to the fact that the FA and Football League minutes might prove to be similarly illuminating. However, rather than doing a „comprehensive‟ analysis of these latter sources, a pragmatic decision was made to consult them selectively by cross referencing dates and incidents that were referenced in the RA/RU minutes. I was similarly selective about „historical‟ newspapers. Other aspects of the project which I embarked upon were omitted in order to maintain a manageable amount of data. For example, I had intended to incorporate a series of match analyses using video taped Premier League games (See Colwell, 1999) and a detailed „season review‟, but for reasons of time and space chose not to pursue these aspects of the research13. Once again, this underlines the learning process undergone during research.

The Interrelationship Between Theory and Research The processes of data collection and analysis outlined in the above section were informed by the figurational „principle‟ that sociologists should seek to achieve an interplay or two-way traffic between theory and research. Dunning suggests:

Always relate your observations to a body of theory and your theories to a body of observations ... uninterrupted two-way traffic between two layers of knowledge; that of general ideas, theories or models and that of observations and perceptions of specific events. The latter, if not sufficiently informed by the former, remains unorganised and diffuse; the former, if not sufficiently informed by the latter; remains dominated by feelings and imaginings (Dunning, 1992, 187).

56 Like many aspects of the research process, this conception promises much on paper and „in theory‟. For me, however, it was difficult to „apply‟ during the research process. There is some irony that, in terms of this „approach‟ to theory and research, there was, then, something of a „gap‟ between the theory (as outlined by Dunning) and research (in terms of the practical reality of doing research). This two-way traffic was, on reflection, experienced as intermittent: the theoretical concepts often generated insights into the data, but the data only occasionally generated insights into the theoretical framework. In terms of the latter, for example, in the interviews with referees, as suggested, it became apparent that I had given inadequate consideration to the role of match observers and referee coaches in the football figuration and the way in which these groups constrained referees. This led to a reformulation of the orienting concept of the football figuration and a different, more adequate understanding of the power relationships within it. Overall, however, I experienced this interrelationship between theory and data as complex and often difficult to „bring to the fore‟ of my thinking. Whilst I have paid attention to the ways various theoretical concepts have informed this research, below I consider the „flip side‟ of this equation. I look at the ways in which the practical experience of doing this research has informed my understanding of the theoretical framework of involvement and detachment.

Whilst I have explored ideas about involvement and detachment on a theoretical level elsewhere (Colwell, 2000b), below , I explore some of these issues raised in relation to the practical aspects of „doing‟ research, via a discussion of the process of interviewing referees. Both Green (2000b) and Roderick (2003) explore issues of involvement and detachment as researchers who describe themselves as „insiders‟. Roderick is an ex-professional footballer who interviewed (ex-)professional footballers, whilst Green is a former physical educationalist who interviewed physical educationalists. My experience of the involvement - detachment issue was, in contrast, experienced from the perspective of a relative „outsider‟, as discussed below.

57 Below, I have tried to highlight the ways in which my own „position‟ as the researcher has shaped this research and, in particular, how I might have become „more involved‟ during the course of its completion. As such, I attempt to „make public‟, as far as possible, the way that my own experiences and values might have shaped the way this project was carried out and its findings. Whilst this process can never be „complete‟ or comprehensive, for some of our values are opaque, obscure or unknown to us, here an effort is made to provide an „account‟ of those values in order that readers might be afforded some insights into the way in which they might have shaped this project.

At the outset of this study in 1997, my only „insider‟ credentials came from my interest in football; I enjoyed watching elite level football and (then) had supported Leicester City for around 5 years. I had played football „for fun‟ and was, at the time, a qualified FA coach. A variety of labels might be employed to describe the sense in which I was an „outsider‟ in relation to the individuals I was intending to interview (male, elite level (ex) referees), but the following will suffice: I was (and am) a female hockey player with, at best, a marginal experience of officiating (at school!). I had come to be doing a study about referees not as a result of a long standing interest in the subject (though I was interested in football), but through the vagaries of academia, wherein I successfully applied for a four-year studentship to conduct a piece of football related research. The suggestion to investigate refereeing was put forward by my supervisor. In figurational terms, at the outset of this project I could then be considered to be approaching the project from a position of relative detachment.

In some ways this „outsider status‟ was a significant advantage. Unlike many (not all) committed football fans, I had no axe to grind about referees. As a follower of and participant in different sports, I was aware that refereeing decisions were often controversial, that officials were often criticised, that they made mistakes, but I did not (and do not) share the view of many fans

58 that all referees were (or are) biased or „useless‟. Similarly, unlike Sones (1999), I was not a member of the refereeing fraternity and as such had no particular axe to grind on behalf of referees. So how did this outsider status impact on the research process? In what ways did I move from being – in theory – a relatively detached „outsider‟ to a more involved position and how, in turn, might this have impacted on the research? For, like Roderick (2003), my own involvement and detachment seemed to be „in flux‟ during the research process.

The key implication for me as an outsider was that, for long periods of time during this research, I didn‟t feel „qualified‟ to go and interview referees. Having never interviewed anyone before, I was constantly unsure about what I would ask them, about appearing „incompetent‟ and asking stupid questions. I was also aware that there was a small „pool‟ of potential participants on the Premier League referee‟s list (20) who would be available to be interviewed and I was concerned that I did not want to „mess up‟ if any of them agreed to be interviewed. Coupled with this, one of the concerns which permeated the early stages of the research process was that referees would be reluctant to be involved in the project and would be wary about sharing their views. Not long after I started the research, Gordon Thompson‟s book about refereeing, The Man in Black was published. His acknowledgements did little to ease my worries. He wrote: “[t]wo truisms about football came up time and time again during the writing of this book. No one trusts referees. And no referee trusts anyone foolish enough to write a book about them”. He thanked the “few league referees and ex-referees” who responded to his calls, but added: “[t]here are too many others who, for reasons best known to themselves made no attempt to cooperate with the research. Which is a shame, because, ultimately this book is about you” (Thompson, 1998, acknowledgements). The problems Thompson had encountered further compounded my own doubts about securing the involvement of the individuals who were central to the research.

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Probably as a consequence of what Maynard suggests is the sanitised version of research often presented in the sociological literature, I assumed these feelings were unique to me. Whilst Back (2002, 3.14) notes that it is common for researchers to “feel a real sense of trepidation” at the outset of their research, I have yet to come across an account of the research process which outlines the researcher‟s fears that „they won‟t want to talk to me‟ or „I won‟t know what to ask‟14. Yet having done the interviews and become more confident about talking about the process, almost every other researcher I have spoken to about this „fear‟ has experienced similar doubts and uncertainties! These feelings were overcome during the research process, largely as a result of becoming, as described, „immersed‟ in the data over a period of time.

By the time I interviewed referees, I felt confident I had a good grasp of the pertinent issues and the areas I needed to cover. The positive feedback from Philip Don during the first interview, in terms of his support for the project, also contributed to the sense that I „knew what I was doing‟. For each meeting with the referees and subsequently match observers and coaches, I made sure I was as informed about the individuals I was meeting as possible. This process was affected by my awareness that I was an „outsider‟ and that I might have to work to convince interviewees of my „credentials‟ as a knowledgeable, interested researcher. I made sure I was informed about the biographical details of interviewees and gathered information about particular games and „controversial‟ incidents participants had been involved in. This both helped the process of „engaging‟ with the individuals I was interviewing on a „personal‟ level and building a rapport, and also conveying a sense of competence and that I „knew‟ what I was talking about. With reassurances that any names, etc., would be removed from the transcript, the discussion of specific incidents participants had been involved in also facilitated the process of encouraging participants to discuss what were, for some of them, significant, high profile, difficult experiences. It is impossible to

60 know how successful this strategy was in terms of encouraging participants to „open up‟, but the verbal feedback from a number of interviewees at least indicated that I was being „taken seriously‟ as a „legitimate‟ researcher. For example, several participants had apparently discussed the research with individuals who had already given interviews and reported positive feedback to me.

The process of conducting interviews led to what might be described as a „swing‟ in the involvement - detachment balance. Engaging with individual referees themselves, rather than just reading about them or watching them in action refereeing, undoubtedly led to a shift in my perception of them and to a higher degree of involvement. Without exception, the participants were likeable and accommodating, for example, often offering to meet at my convenience, rather than theirs. Whilst Roderick describes how his own playing experiences led to feelings of empathy with the players he was interviewing, even without this degree of „shared experience‟ with referees, I experienced similar feelings. I was often struck by, for example, the high level of commitment and sacrifice that referees made in order to meet their refereeing obligations. Empathic feelings were elicited on the occasions when difficult and controversial incidents were being discussed. And in the context of the „social act‟ of the face to face interview, it seems likely that an „empathic‟ presentation and emotional involvement on my behalf encouraged „more‟ rather than „less‟ openness on behalf of the interviewees than, for example, had I appeared indifferent to the circumstances being described to me (see Roderick, 2003, for his account of this process).

Such „involvement‟ did not mean I did not „challenge‟ referees or that I desisted from talking about „difficult‟ incidents. In fact, my „empathic‟ feelings may well have been beneficial in this sense. For in discussing particular incidents, which I felt might be difficult for participants to talk about it is apparent, on reflection, that I pursued these issues, but was „careful‟ about how I probed them. The transcripts revealed that at points during the

61 interview when sensitive issues were being discussed, I tended to repeat the guarantees about confidentiality, or that names would be removed and that participants could check the final transcript to ensure they were happy for their comments to be included.

As Roderick (2003) suggests, this relatively high degree of involvement and emotional engagement appears to enhance the interview process and facilitate the process of eliciting information, rather than inhibit these processes. For, as Roderick argues, if the balance is weighted more in favour of the relatively detached, unemotional researcher, this is likely to affect the interview process itself. If, in an effort to control our emotional involvement during the interview process, we stifle the empathic “cues” (Roderick, 2003) which would otherwise be elicited when difficult and highly personal information is being divulged, the consequence may be that interviewees perceive us as disinterested and cold and, as a consequence, feel less inclined to engage with the interview process.

In this sense, it might be argued that the two-way traffic between theory and research which Elias advocated has yet to adequately address the practical dimension of involvement and detachment in face-to –face encounters such as interview settings. To use Elias‟s analogy, it might be said that there has been something of a „roadblock‟ in the exchange between theory and research on this issue. For, as discussed, the „detour via detachment‟ is in theory, a fruitful method of procedure on the road to more „reality congruent‟ knowledge. But in practice, a relatively high degree of involvement in the interview setting actually appears to offer the potential for achieving a higher level of „reality congruent‟ knowledge, in that it may encourage participants to open up more fully about their experiences than they might otherwise do. In this context, there is a sense in which this aspect of the research process has been subject to a somewhat „sanitised‟ presentation in figurational projects, often leading to uninformative „renditions‟ of the „detour via detachment‟ argument, with little „substance‟ about what that detour actually involves. The work of Green

62 (2000b) and Roderick (2003) certainly „opens up the road‟. It is hoped that this section on theory and method, which explores some of the messier aspects of research, adds a little more to that project. For, the degree to which my engagement with referees - or increased involvement - which developed during the course of this research and the interview process might have „skewed‟ my analysis is difficult for me to assess. Future research will „measure‟ the reality congruence of the findings presented in the following chapters and critical readers can assess the relative adequacy of the analysis therein.

1 For example: football related, spectator violence; (Dunning, Murphy, and Williams (1986); (1988), Murphy, Williams, and Dunning, (1990), Williams, Dunning, and Murphy, (1984)); the development of: football (Elias and Dunning (1986)); football and rugby; (Dunning, and Sheard (1979)); Rugby; Sheard (1972); foxhunting (Elias (1986b), critiqued by Stokvis (1992)); boxing (Sheard (1997; 1998); cricket (Malcolm (2002)); and, birdwatching (Sheard (1999)). 2 For example in their study of female participants in Aerobics, Maguire and Mansfield claim “a degree of detachment from the research context ... occurred when both authors conducted an ongoing exchange of views about observation and interview material and of figurational and feminist thought” (1998, 118-119). 3 As Bloyce (2004, 150) suggests, reflexivity is an aspect of involvement and detachment issues. 4 This discussion on the „practical‟ dimensions of involvement and detachment in interview settings has been informed by numerous helpful discussions with Dr Martin Roderick. 5 These ideas have developed throughout the duration of this research, often in the context of challenging, informative and provocative discussions about figurational sociology and epistemology with Dr Anna Engel, for which I thank her. 6 My PhD studentship was funded by the merchant bankers Singer & Friedlander. One aspect of the funding agreement was that the CRSS would produce an „annual review‟ on topical football related issues for the duration of the studentship (see Murphy (ed.), 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001) . I was responsible for collating articles for staff writing papers for the review. As well as collating data on refereeing, I also entered details of many other football – related issues for the duration of the research - such as „drugs‟ in football and transfers of players, etc. The extra time allocated for this work meant that the PhD studentship was funded over four years, rather than three. 7 Members of staff at the CRSS subscribed to The Daily Mirror and The Daily Telegraph and so they were delivered to the CRSS every weekday. My supervisor Patrick Murphy subscribed to The Guardian, which he brought in for me to assess. 8 The incident occurred on 26/09/1998. For coverage, see, for example: The Times Online (3/10/1998; 4/10/98; 23/10/98; 24/10/98; 31/10/98; 04/11/98; 23/12/98) The Electronic Telegraph (27/09/1998; 28/09/98; 3/10/98; 5/10/98; 9/10/98; 17/10/98; 23/10/98; 25/10/98), The Independent Online (27/9/98; 25/10/98) and The Daily Mirror Online (27/9.98; 25/10/98; 02/12/98), The Guardian Online (28/09/98) The Observer Online (18/10/98). 9 I am extremely grateful to Arthur Smith of the RA who generously allowed me access to the archives and provided photocopying facilities. 10 Unfortunately, the copies of these letters were inadvertently deleted from my PC and so cannot be included in an appendix.

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11 Along with the letter sent to managers inviting them to participate in the study, a form was also enclosed for them to provide their contact details if they were prepared to take part in the study and a section to complete if they did not wish to participate. This requested them to outline their reasons for not being interviewed and these quotes come from this form. 12 More specific details are not provided in this study in order to protect the identity of individual referees, who could easily be identified if the dates of the promotion to the Premier League were revealed. 13 For example, Bryant et al (1977, 142) thank the 3 researchers who coded 6 American football games: “who spent over two-hundred hours conscientiously coding the six games, and who may never be able to enjoy televised football again”.The match analysis was also „dropped‟ as an aspect of this research because I came to realise that what I had set out to do was inconsistent with some of the underlying themes in this thesis. I was intending to „quantify‟ refereeing performances, which required attempting to assess the „accuracy‟ of refereeing decisions. The need for the Laws of the Game to be interpreted means that such judgements are always subjective and therefore it is impossible to conclude with „absolute‟ certainty whether specific decisions are right or wrong. In other words, it became apparent that to develop specific criteria for quantifying decisions was unachievable. 14 In fact, two weeks prior to the deadline for this thesis, I read Roderick‟s account of his research, in which he speaks of similar concerns, asking “[w]as I going to „cut it as a sociological interviewer”

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Chapter Three:

The Origins of Match Officiating

In this chapter, the origins and early development of „refereeing‟ are discussed. This analysis covers the early folk games played from the 14th century through to the public school games being played in the mid 19th century. Dunning and Sheard‟s (1979) model of football‟s development is used as a framework for this discussion, in order to contextualise the changes „match supervision‟ underwent. At the outset of this chapter, the folk games played from the 14th century onwards are briefly examined. The evidence regarding the use of „third parties‟ to oversee aspects of these games is outlined and consideration is given to the reasons why „outside agents‟ were only marginally involved in these games.

The next section of this chapter follows Goulstone (2000) and Harvey‟s (2001) lead and considers the football-like games being played outside of the public schools during this period. Their evidence on the use of umpires and referees in club games is considered and their criticisms of the dominant and widely accepted understanding of football‟s development, (as expounded by Dunning and Sheard (1979), for example) are briefly addressed. Next, the various football-like games played in the public schools during the 19th century are explored. As discussed later in this chapter, this period represents an important stage in the transition of folk games into their modern sports forms, specifically in terms of the development of written rules. This aspect of football‟s history is particularly pertinent to this study because, in a number of school games, these processes of codification were accompanied by the introduction of umpires or referees to oversee play. Essentially, the various written rules of these games provide important evidence concerning the origins and development of „match officiating‟ and so they are analysed in depth in this chapter. There are two dimensions to this analysis, briefly outlined below.

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The first is a critical examination of the existing literature on the public school games. Here, I explore the historical „facts‟, highlighting where and when „match officials‟ were introduced and detailing their different duties. I also draw attention to apparent inconsistencies and inaccuracies in the existing literature. The second dimension embodies an attempt to analyse and explain the reasons why „third parties‟ were introduced to oversee games. Here I question some of the commonsense assumptions in the literature regarding „how‟ public school games were played, exploring ideas about fair play and gentlemanly conduct. Via this analysis, I begin to identify and establish some of the themes which run throughout this thesis. These themes concern the principles guiding the involvement of „match supervisors‟, particularly those relating to the interpretation of the „Laws of the Game‟.

The Model of Football’s Development The introduction of an „external authority‟ to supervise football games has generally been understood as an integral aspect of the „sportisation‟ of folk games into their modern sports forms (Elias, 1986a, 21). This transition was a gradual, long term and unplanned process, although a period of accelerated change occurred during the mid 19th century. The folk games from which association and rugby football developed and the conditions under which they were transformed have, as far as the evidence allows, been well documented and analysed elsewhere1. As such they are not discussed in depth here. However, it is impossible to understand the development of „refereeing‟ without reference to these processes, and so the key changes are summarised below. Particular attention is paid to changes relating to „match control‟.

Informed by a range of empirical evidence, Dunning and Sheard (1979) have argued that the transition of folk games into modern sports forms occurred

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over five identifiable but overlapping stages. The first four stages of their model are explored in this thesis; the fifth is not directly relevant here as it concerns the split between rugby league and union. Briefly, these stages encompass: (i) the 14th – 20th century, when diverse, unruly folk games were played according to unwritten rules; (ii) around 1750-1840, when folk games were played and adapted by public school boys; (iii) around 1830-1860 when games became more formally organised and regulated. Rules were written down, players had to exercise greater self-control and rugby and football began to emerge as distinctive games; (iv) around 1850-1900, when the games spread from the public schools and were played by adults in independent clubs (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 2-3). Stages one to three are covered in this chapter, the fourth stage frames the next chapter as the development of the „laws of the game‟ is discussed. As Dunning and Sheard suggest, these stages did not simply supersede each other at specific moments in time. Rather, particular games came to be more dominant than others whilst older forms were (and are) still played. Each stage developed from the previous not as part of an evolutionary process, but in the sense that the later stages “bear discernible traces of the former” (1979, 4).

The Early Folk Games During the first stage, encompassing the 14th to the 20th century, the mob or folk games played were “relatively simple, wild and unruly, and played according to unwritten rules” (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 2). These games formed the “„common matrix‟ from which soccer and rugby developed” (1979, 2) as well as other sports such as hurling and polo (1979, 28). The early folk games were generally characterised by high levels of violence and often involved many hundreds, sometimes thousands, of players. Various games were played in different locations, so, for example, the size of the ball and the means of propelling it varied according to local custom and tradition. Similarly, in some games the ball could be kicked or hit with sticks, in others carried or thrown and in others still, all these techniques were permitted. In

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terms of the way these games were „regulated‟, Dunning and Sheard suggest that any rules governing play were oral and “not very elaborate”, but that the means of starting matches and of “determining victory and defeat – what the „goals‟ of the match were to be – were usually agreed upon” (1979, 31). They argue that the simple rules for these games were legitimated by tradition (1979, 33) and that play was regulated by the players themselves. Essentially they suggest:

Such direct control as there was, was accomplished by the players within the context of the game. There were no outside bodies to determine relatively impersonal rules or agents appointed by such bodies to secure compliance (1979, 31-32).

Green (1960b), among others, has highlighted evidence supporting these claims about the relative lack of „supervision‟ in the folk games. He cites a description of football written by Moor at the “end of the eighteenth century”2 describing goals, team numbers and “[a]n indifferent spectator” starting the game (Green, 1960b, 44). As discussed below, the most rapid and significant period of transition of games occurred in the public schools in the mid 19th century. However, that these changes were aspects of a more general, long term process is made clear by Witty (1960a) who explores the folk games‟ gradual transition into relatively more organised and „structured‟ forms. He argues that the progression of folk games away from, as he puts it, the “rough-and-tumble of the „mob‟” was occurring outside the public schools at the very beginning of the 19th century. He emphasises: “that this change was effective elsewhere than in the Public Schools is obvious from the descriptions given by Joseph Strutt in 1801” (1960a, 138) and goes on to quote Strutt‟s detailed description of the size of playing field and goals, the ball and how the game was won.

One source hints that a „third party‟ may have been used to do more than simply start the game and determine victory or defeat. Dunning and Sheard

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(1979), McIntosh (1979) and Rous and Ford (1974) all make reference to the writings of a 16th century English schoolmaster, Richard Mulcaster who, as early as 1561, proposed the use of an „outside agent‟, a “trayning maister” who might supervise the play. Though it is anachronistic to suggest, as McIntosh does (1979, 20), that Mulcaster recommended “appointing a referee” the duties he envisaged for his “trayning maister” indeed embodied aspects which would later become integral to the referee‟s role. Mulcaster advocated someone to: “stand by, which can judge the play, and is judge over the parties, and hath authoritie to command in the place” (Mulcaster, 1561, in Rous and Ford, 1974, 15; in Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 36). As Dunning and Sheard (1979, 36) note, it is not known whether Mulcaster‟s recommendations were ever enacted, but his writings do raise the possibility that in some folk games “direct control” and “compliance” might have been established by someone other than the players themselves.

As discussed below, in terms of the transition of folk games into their modern sports forms, much significance has been attributed to the public schools in the mid nineteenth century. However, as these examples illustrate, we can probably trace the genesis of „referees‟ or „umpires‟ back to earlier forms of football. As Goulstone (2000) has noted, Dunning and Sheard‟s „model‟ of the transition of folk games and similar accounts in the historical literature (such as Walvin, 1974) have become part of the established and widely accepted understanding of the way in which football and rugby developed. Goulstone summarises this understanding thus:

Football historians and sociologists tend to view the pre-modern sport as a brutish mob-activity of the peasantry which required the civilizing influence of an expensively educated elite in order to become the well- regulated game pursued by those gentlemanly clubs responsible for founding the Football Association and the Rugby Football Union (Goulstone, 2000, 135).

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Both Goulstone (2000) and Harvey (2001) have questioned this prevailing understanding of the transition of folk games into modern sports forms, echoing questions first raised by Holt some years earlier (see Holt, 1988, 70). Their central challenge to the „standard histories‟ is based on empirical evidence that, contrary to the established view, complex, rule based and “highly organized” (Goulstone, 2000, 135) games were being played outside of the public schools from the early to mid 19th century. However, before discussing the evidence these sports historians have brought to light, it is worth echoing Curry‟s (2002) critiques of Harvey‟s work, which seem equally applicable to Goulstone in this instance. Curry (2002, 2) has recommended Harvey engages in a “more detailed reading of the acknowledged histories” of football. Given the sources cited above, in particular Witty‟s assessment that transition was occurring outside the public schools at the turn of the 19th century, it seems that some of the complexities of a number of historical accounts – indeed, the accounts themselves - have been ignored in Harvey and Goulstone‟s work. In essence, a number of authors, prior to Goulstone (1974, 2000) and Harvey (1995, 2001) demonstrated that some forms of folk football were played with some regulations and external controls. Harvey and Goulstone do not discuss these sources.

The Later Folk Games This criticism aside, by revealing that umpires and referees were appointed to supervise games from at least the 1840s both Harvey and Goulstone refute the claims made by Dunning and Sheard regarding the absence of third parties or outside bodies to determine rules or “to secure compliance” in the folk forms of football (1979, 31-32). In demonstrating the links between early forms of football and the modern football and rugby codes, in terms of teams, clubs and rules, Goulstone in particular has drawn attention to evidence which demonstrates that, outside of the public schools, “many games of the folk... were complex, highly organized activities” (Goulstone, 2000, 136). He argues that, “complete with rules, umpires and clubs, the local game was more

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advanced, more highly organized, than that played by the chief footballing schools” (Goulstone, 2000, 136).

Goulstone documents empirical evidence of village, pub and town teams of equal, though variable, numbers playing games through the late 1830s to the late 1840s, often for a prize, such as money or food. Significantly, he cites examples of individuals being appointed to umpire games, such as in the game between Charlestone and Boston, at Ashton-under-Lyne Christmas Day 1846. Details of the game were advertised, including kick off times and the number of players (eight each). Goulstone notes that the rules “included the appointment of a single referee [sic]: „Mr Samuel Leech of Boston House has consented to officiate as umpire‟” (Bells Life in London, 20 Dec 1846, in Goulstone, 2000, 139).

Harvey (2001) also provides evidence to suggest that officials were used to supervise games outside of the public schools as early as the 1840s. He argues that, prior to 1860: “[i]t was quite common for referees to be used to administer games and on occasions, as at Bolton in 1841 when an umpire awarded victory to the other side because his own team was cheating, these officials displayed considerable objectivity” (Harvey, 2001, 56). Goulstone demonstrates that clubs were formed from at least as early as 1840, and provides a range of evidence to support his contention that games during this period were more formally organised than has previously been suggested. He cites, for example, a match report in Bell’s Life in London which documents a game played between two Lancashire teams, the Body Guards and Fearnoughts, in 1841. Again, the report indicates that „outside agents‟ – umpires - were appointed for the game, and that they were able to disqualify teams for „foul play‟: “one of the Body Guards (being tired) putting another person not connected with the game to kick for him, and their own umpire declaring it foul play according to the rules agreed by both parties, decided the game” (Bell’s Life in London, 2 Jan 1842, in Goulstone, 2000, 140).

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Goulstone goes on to suggest that: “[t]he rules framed at Rugby School (1845- 46), said to be the earliest extant, only deal with „disputed points‟ of the actual play, [and] therefore copy the format of those footballing articles already employed to regulate the adult game” (Goulstone, 2000, 141). Though Goulstone‟s data demonstrate that club written rules existed prior to those in the schools, discussed in detail below, given the lack of evidence regarding the level of contact or communication between public school pupils/staff and these clubs, it seems difficult to conclude with such a degree of certainty that the schools were „copying‟ the methods for supervising play employed in club games. Just as Dunning (1999, 83) has argued that football-like games “most probably had multiple origins” (1999, 83), for example in the games played by the Romans, Greeks, Italians, English, etc., it is possible that the rules of the early clubs and the public schools developed in parallel but independently of each other. Further, there is evidence to suggest that both inside and outside the schools, the rules may have been framed by practices employed in the more established cricket code. These ideas are examined in depth later in this chapter.

In terms of „match officials,‟, as detailed below, there is certainly evidence to suggest that the role of the contemporary referee was „shaped‟ in the public school context. Along with the demarcation of umpires and/or referees as the „sole arbiters‟ on decisions of play and the establishment of the principle that their decisions were „final‟, many of the duties first laid down for the early public school officials remain part of the modern match official‟s responsibilities in the game. For example, at Winchester, the umpires‟ duties were to “score the goals... to call the time of beginning the game, changing sides and ending, and “in all cases of doubt in which they are referred to, to give their decision, which is final” (in Witty, 1960b, 181). However, the evidence uncovered by Goulstone and Harvey clearly indicates that in adult games outside of the public schools during the period, umpires were performing similar duties. In this sense, the work of both authors undermines

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the type of analysis evident in Thompson‟s (1998) history of refereeing, wherein he says of folk football prior to its adoption by schools and universities “nobody was asked, nor... did they volunteer, to take charge” (Thomson, 1998, 8). However, as discussed below, umpires‟ and/or referees‟ duties appear to have been more explicitly defined and relatively fixed in the school codes. Indeed, Harvey states that outside of the schools “in the years preceding 1860”, commonly:

articles and contracts were drawn up by the representatives of teams for use in a specific match. It appears that rules were usually agreed orally and based upon shared understanding (2001, 56).

Whilst Harvey and Goulstone have brought to light a wealth of significant evidence regarding the game outside of the schools, as suggested there is a sense in which they oversimplify the way that the development of football and rugby has been understood in the general histories of the game. Harvey, for example, says of games played from the mid 18th century:

rationalised, rule-based sport, long preceded the introduction of codified games that had been developed at public schools... influential notions positing a „civilizing process‟, in which popular culture was „tamed‟ by external influences, are erroneous (Harvey, 1995, 227).

Such a rejection of, in particular, Dunning and Sheard‟s thesis on the development of football-like games would seem premature. As noted, Dunning and Sheard present a wealth of empirical evidence to support their contention that folk games from the 14th century to at least the beginning of the 19th century were characterised by comparatively high levels of permissible violence, and were played without formal regulation. They argue that as part of a long term, unplanned process, folk football went through a series of overlapping stages, each characterised “by more formal rules and

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organization than its predecessor” (1979, 1). Their argument, supported and framed by the available empirical evidence, is that from the early to mid 19th century onwards (from stage two in their model), in the context of changing social attitudes towards violence, each stage “also involved the demand for behaviour which was more orderly and restrained than that of the one preceding it” (1979, 1). Goulstone and Harvey‟s evidence demonstrating that this process was occurring outside the schools from the 1830s demands a reformulation of stage two of Dunning and Sheard‟s model, because it demonstrates that the changes were not confined to the public schools. It does not however undermine Dunning and Sheard‟s empirically supported contentions about the levels of violence evident in folk football before this. In this sense, the central tenet of their argument about the overall pattern of change towards more civilised forms of football remains valid.

Whilst acknowledging the need for “an immense amount of further research”, Goulstone concludes that the evidence he has unearthed indicates that, prior to the games‟ transition in the public schools, “there were already two basic folk forms correlating with the later soccer and rugby codes” (Goulstone, 2000, 142). Dunning (2001) has recently endorsed this conclusion, suggesting that the evidence brought to light by Goulstone (and Harvey) means that a “fairly substantial alteration [is required] in the standard histories of the game” (Dunning, 2001, 88). Having taken heed of Goulstone and Harvey‟s advice to consider the development of the game outside of the schools, below I explore in depth the available evidence on public school football.

Early Public School Football Dunning and Sheard suggest the second identifiable stage in football‟s development lasted from around 1750 to 1840. During this period boys in the public schools adopted the kind of folk games described at the outset of this chapter and elaborated certain aspects of them3. Different games were played in different schools, with variations often the result of the particular physical

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structures (e.g., cloisters) on the grounds where they were played. Despite local variation, there were some features common to the games played at all of the schools, including a type of scrum and bully (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 59). Again, rules were apparently unwritten but, over time, became „established‟ and generally understood within (though at this time not between) schools. Eton, for example, is said to have had „accepted‟ rules by 1815, likewise Aldenham by 1825 (Witty, 1960a, 139).

As with other extra-curricular public school activities during the period, the pupils rather than the masters were responsible for the organisation and control of games. In this context, the older, stronger boys appear to have been in a position to “exercise virtually unrestrained dominance” over younger, weaker pupils (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 58). The dominant/ subordinate relationships which found expression in the pupils‟ games were representative of the informal, though sanctioned, pattern of authority which had emerged in the schools more generally. This hierarchical structure was known as the „prefect-fagging‟ system4, within which senior boys (prefects) generally exerted their power over juniors (fags), forcing them to perform menial tasks and often disciplining and/or bullying them. Staff had very little control or authority over the boys, particularly in relation to their leisure activities. As such, “football was one means by which older [boys] asserted their dominance over younger boys” (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 54).

During this stage, the various public school games retained many of the features common to the earlier folk games, including large numbers of players, unequal sides and, in particular, the high level of violence permitted. Pupils at Charterhouse and Rugby, for example, wore iron-capped boots in order to “make their „hacking‟ more effective” (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 58). As the games‟ rules appear to have been unwritten, there is no evidence to determine whether or not they were supervised by an umpire or referee. It is possible that pupils nominated an individual to oversee play. However,

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given the apparent lack of restrictions on the way the game could be played – i.e. there were few rules to obey - it is equally feasible that games were unsupervised. The high level of pupil autonomy and the prevalence of bullying as an „accepted‟ means of exerting authority may well have meant that the older, stronger boys could simply „dictate‟ how the games were played, without concerning themselves with „fairness‟ or „legality‟.

Because of the apparent absence of written rules, our knowledge of this second stage in the development of football and, in particular, of how these matches were overseen, remains minimal. However, from the mid to late 1840s onwards pupils produced written (rather than oral) rules for their games and subsequently left behind a legacy of detailed records about the ways football was played and overseen. By the late 1860s, most public school codes recommended the appointment of an umpire or referee and outlined their duties and so these rules have shaped our understanding about the way match officiating developed. As such, these codes are explored in detail below.

Later Public School Football The third stage outlined in Dunning and Sheard‟s model lasted from around 1830 to 1860 and was a period of relatively intense, accelerated change. Throughout the public schools, the football-like games became more formally regulated. Their rules became more elaborate and were written down, and the players “were required to exercise greater self-control” (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 2). Further, the kinds of power relationships between pupils outlined above which had shaped the way games were played and controlled also underwent significant transformation during the period with the reform of the prefect-fagging system. This process of reform, which was initially achieved at Rugby and later in other schools, resulted in a more clearly defined and regulated system, with pupils ultimately subject to the headmasters‟ authority (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 73). Through these

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reforms, the older boys and prefects became more constrained, though they retained a relatively high level of autonomy. In essence, pupils were still largely governed by „self-rule‟, but there was a shift in power as staff authority was gradually restored5. The reform of the prefect-fagging system was shaped by the belief that a central aspect of public school education was to train boys to „become‟ gentlemen, and team games came to be seen as an integral part of that training during this period.

Games were understood to be „character building‟ and instructive, with participation viewed as a means of acquiring the skills required to become a gentleman. Both the changing power relationships in the schools and the higher status accorded to football-like games – now understood to be „educational‟ - affected the way they were organised. Formal organisational structures emerged as senior pupils set down their rules in writing, devised methods of ensuring they were accepted by fellow pupils, and outlined how disputes arising during play should be resolved. For example, at Rugby the process of achieving consensus on the written rules was negotiated via a type of informal assembly, called a levée (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 90). A Sixth Form levée put the 1845 rules down on paper and an assembly comprised of pupils from the Upper School6 ratified these in 1846, with minor changes. As Dunning and Sheard argue, the Sixth Formers‟ submission of the rules to the Upper School suggests that the older, stronger boys and prefects were no longer simply dictating the way the game was to be played according to their own preferences.

The rules of 1846 at Rugby were prefaced with the instruction that they were “to be regarded as a set of decisions on certain disputed points, [rather] than as containing all the Laws of the Game” (in Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 92). Of the “certain disputed points” requiring clarification, there were rules about how and when a player was offside, about the type of physical challenges permitted or prohibited, about the circumstances when players were allowed

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to use their hands, and about the different forms of kicking permitted7 (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 92). As Dunning and Sheard suggest, as the rules only covered certain aspects of the game played at Rugby, basic elements such as the size of teams and the playing area were probably still determined by school custom or tradition. However they also note that the relatively high number of written rules in Rugby‟s 1846 version (37) indicates that there had been a degree of controversy about the more complex aspects of the game. Clearly, the process of achieving consensus on the rules was at a very early stage.

Public School Football: Written Rules

Between 1845 and the late 1860s, pupils at each of the public schools committed their rules to paper. Although there were still many differences between the games being played at the various schools, there was a general move towards the introduction of explicit, written rules about how they should be played and restrictions on particular types of play. Increasing restrictions on the permissible levels of violence in games, cited by Dunning and Sheard as evidence supporting Elias‟s (1994) theory of the Civilising Process, are evident in the written rules at several of the public schools. At Winchester, for example, the rules stated that: “[k]icking or striking a player is unlawful under any circumstances whatever. Holding is also unlawful unless an opponent has caught the ball, and even then, if it is done so as to throttle or otherwise purposely hurt the player” (Witty, 1960a, 142). That it was necessary to legislate against these practices in the rules indicates that they were tactics which had previously been employed by pupils when there had been no/few restrictions on the degree or nature of violence permitted. Similarly, at Rugby in 1845 hacking “on or below the knee, or with the heel” was deemed “unfair” (Witty, 1960a, 142), whilst at Harrow, the rules stated: “[a]ll charging is fair, but no holding, tripping, pushing with the hands, shinning or back-shinning is allowed” (Witty, 1960a, 142).

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The introduction of external „agents‟ to supervise play can be understood in relation to these early, formal rules in the public school context. Where previously there had been few taboos on „how‟ players could play, the introduction of more explicit restrictions on what was or was not allowed during games increased the scope for disputes. The rules, which had become “so numerous and complex they had to be written down” (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 83) essentially made it more likely that the „legality‟ of physical challenges, ball handling and the type of kicking allowed, etc., could and would be questioned. Pickford, for example, recalls some of the problems encountered in games played without an umpire or referee. He recollects: “[t]he result of having no referee, to my own knowledge in some matches, used to be the abrupt closing of a game after a heated argument between the captains and their supporters, neither giving way” (Pickford, 1906a, 3). Although in this example Pickford is referring to football played by adults, it seems likely that similar incidents occurred in school games. The fact that umpires were introduced in the schools indicates that disputes, confrontations, or prolonged discussions during play sometimes arose: why else specify that a third party should be nominated to arbitrate if such situations had not occurred? So, with the process of negotiating accepted rules ongoing and the dynamics of playing under complex rules increasing the potential for the rules to be contested and the game disrupted, processes of codification were accompanied by the introduction of umpires to supervise play and decide on disputes as they arose.

The Literature on Public School Written Rules Witty has probably done most to shape our understanding about the early match officials in the public schools. As head of The FA‟s Intelligence Department from 1938 until the late 1950s he lectured on officiating to players, managers and referees, and subsequently wrote a number of influential essays on refereeing and the Laws of the Game (see Witty, 1960a-

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g). His authoritative – though, as discussed below, not entirely accurate - account of the development of officiating in the public schools, „The History of Refereeing‟, appears in Fabian and Green‟s (1960) much referenced four volume work, Association Football. In it, Witty says of the football-like games played in the public schools during the mid 1800s, “[I]t was in the schools that the idea of external control really developed” (1960d, 181). Below the early methods of „external control‟ in school football outlined by Witty are considered.

Very little empirical evidence has come to light to tell us much about the „nature‟ of umpiring public school games – for example, about how regularly umpires were called upon to resolve disputes and how readily or otherwise their decisions were accepted. Indeed, there is conflicting evidence about the dates that written rules are said to have been produced in the schools, resulting in some uncertainty about when match „officials‟ were first introduced in the schools. Harvey (2001, 54), for example, suggests that “most other public schools” had followed Rugby‟s lead in committing their rules to paper “by 1856”, yet makes no reference to any sources/evidence to support this claim. Similarly, Witty‟s claim that: “[b]y 1840 most of the Public Schools had reduced their own rules to writing” (1960a, 139) is made without reference to any source(s). Curry‟s (2002, 4) evidence-based and fully referenced suggestion, based on his own research, that it was not until the 1860s that “most” of the schools had committed their rules to paper would therefore seem to be more reliable. One consequence of Witty‟s inaccuracy regarding the first written rules is that his claim that umpires were mentioned in a number of the schools‟ written codes by 1847 also seems to be premature. He argues, for example: “[c]ertainly by 1847 there was an established practice... of having „umpires‟ as definite accessories to all important matches”. Stating “[a] few extracts must serve to illustrate this,” he then quotes rules mentioning umpires from the written codes of Eton, Winchester, Harrow and Cheltenham (1960d, 181), implying that he is referring to

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versions of these school rules produced in 1847. However, again he makes no reference to any source for this date and, with the exception of Eton, the suggestion that written rules existed at these schools as early as 1847 is not corroborated elsewhere in the literature8.

In contrast to Witty, Dunning and Sheard (1979, 98) suggest that the first written rules were produced at Eton in 18499. In a sense, it is possible that both Dunning and Sheard and Witty are actually correct here, and are referring to two different football-like games being played at Eton during this period – the Eton Wall Game and the Eton Field Game10. As discussed below, Curry (2002) demonstrates that the Field Game was first codified in 1847, whilst Arlott (1977, 258) suggests that the written rules for the Wall Game date from 1849. In terms of the first written rules at other schools, Dunning and Sheard suggest the following years: Shrewsbury around 185511, Westminster around 1860 and Charterhouse, 1862. The latter two dates are endorsed by Curry, but he indicates that the earliest written code at Shrewsbury dates from 1866 (2002, 4).

Curry (2002) suggests that rules were produced at other public schools as follows: Uppingham, 1857; Westminster, 1860; Charterhouse, 1862; and Winchester, 1863. Curry also (re)discovered some useful primary evidence, having unearthed a copy of the Harrow football rules dated 1858 which he describes as the “initial” Harrow code (2002, 4). Similarly, his research into the Eton archives led to the (re)discovery of the 1847 Field Game rules, thus supporting the date put forward by Witty. However, whilst Witty (1960d, 181) indicates that he is quoting from these rules, it is clear from a comparison of his work and the original code12 that he is not quoting the 1847 version! Given the often contradictory and/or inaccurate accounts of the development of written rules in the schools, this is clearly an area which would benefit from more research. However, although there is a lack of clarity about the precise dates match officials were introduced, there is enough evidence to

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conclude that by the late 1850s the written rules at several public schools made mention of umpires (i.e., Rugby, 1845; Eton, 1847; Harrow, 1858) and, by the late 1860s at least, the appointment of umpires in school games was indeed common practice (see also Rous and Ford, 1974, 15-18).

‘Umpires ‘ in the Public Schools: The Cricket Link Witty suggests that the idea of using umpires in football games was probably „borrowed‟ from cricket (1960d, 181; see also Thompson, 1998, 12-13). Although he does not elaborate on the reasons for making this link and the empirical evidence supporting such a connection is probably best described as „circumstantial‟, there are several factors which make it a plausible explanation of the origins of football officiating. The earliest surviving printed version of the laws of cricket, from 1752 (Golesworthy, 1962, 119; Malcolm, 2002, 45), required that two umpires were appointed13. As such, by the 1840s when pupils first attempted to put their football rules in writing, the use of external agents to supervise play was an established practice in cricket. Cricket had been played at several of the public schools since the 18th Century, including Eton, Harrow, Westminster and Winchester (Arlott, 1977, 176). It is, then, likely that the game‟s laws would have been relatively well known in many of the schools by the time the first written football codes were being produced. It is feasible that pupils attempting to put the rules of their games down on paper for the first time drew upon the relatively „mature‟ cricket code. They would have had to do this with no „national‟ football code to guide them, to compare their rules to, or to „borrow‟ rules from.

The possibility that pupils drew upon the cricket laws is given added weight when the language used in the early football codes is compared with that used in the cricket laws from 1752. The most striking similarity is the description of the cricket umpires as the “sole Judges of... all fair and unfair Play” (in Golesworthy, 1962, 119) – phrasing very closely replicated in a number of the early public school football codes (discussed later in this

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chapter). Another significant feature which the football and cricket codes shared was the principle outlining the circumstances when an umpire was allowed to „intervene‟. Cricket umpires were not permitted to give a decision on whether or not a batsman was out unless they were appealed to do so by the fielding players. A similar method of „appealing‟ is evident, for example, in the Winchester rules, which specified that the umpires must be “referred to” before making any decisions on foul play (see Witty, 1960a, 141). This practice was later utilised in adult games and a clear connection between cricket and football is apparent in the FA rules at the end of the 19th century. By 1896, when referees (rather than umpires) were supervising games and were allowed to intervene without any appeal, players were reminded that the appeal „How‟s that‟, which was (and is) used to cover “all ways of being out” in cricket (in Golesworthy, 1962, 132) could not be used in football:

When you do claim say what for and [do] not shout out „foul‟ which may mean one of a dozen offences. If „hands‟ say „hands,‟ and so on. The Referee then knows what you want. „How‟s that‟ cannot in any way be taken as an appeal (Hints to Players, The Referees’ Association Chart, 1896, 15)

Umpires and Referees in the School Codes Just as the game itself varied from school to school, as suggested, so too did the practices used to supervise play. The „arbiters‟ were sometimes the players themselves and, if so, were usually the team captains. In these circumstances, it appears that they were required to oversee the game as they played it. At Rugby, for example, the 1846 rules stated: “the heads of sides, or two deputies appointed by them, are the sole arbiters of all disputes” (in Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 96). Alternatively, umpires were „external‟ to the play, supervising the game from the sidelines. The written codes of Harrow, Cheltenham and Winchester made this provision, with teams responsible for choosing their own umpires (Green, 1953, 14-15; Witty, 1960a, 141; Thompson, 1998, 13-18). Both Witty (1960d, 181) and Thompson (1998, 13) claim this

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practice was also followed at Eton in 1847, but the 1847 Eton code, rediscovered by Curry, reveals that two umpires and a referee were appointed for the Field Game. The rules stated:

To prevent dispute it is better to appoint, before the game begins, two umpires: one chosen by each party; and a referee to be agreed on by both parties, whose decision, if the umpires differ, is to be final [Rule 4]. It will be the duty of the umpires to enforce the rules: to decide on disputes that arise... and to see fair play for both parties [Rule 5] (The Eton Field Game Rules, 1847).

The Eton rules of 1847 also provide what appears to be the first example of “discretion” being incorporated into football rules. Umpires were instructed that they “must use their discretion” (Rule 21) when applying three of the Field Game rules. This demonstrates that the need for match officials to interpret the rules and, sometimes, to refrain from intervening was embodied in one of the earliest written codes. The use of two umpires and a referee was also practised at Cheltenham College, although here the umpires were chosen by the captains of each side and the referee was chosen by the umpires (Pickford, 1906a, 2; Green, 1953; 15; Witty, 1960d, 182). Again, the referee was to decide upon “any point upon which the umpires cannot agree” (Green, 1953; 15). At this very early stage then, the rules of several of the schools, including Cheltenham, Harrow and Eton allowed for the fact that an umpire might be unable to give a decision. The Harrow rules of 1858 had simply instructed “there must always be two Umpires in a House Match” but, by 1860, they made provision for umpires to raise questions about problems encountered during play after matches were over:

[The umpires‟] decision shall be final in matters of fact, but they are at liberty to refer any question of law to the Committee of the Philathletic Club, if they feel unable to decide it at the time (The Harrow School Rules, 1860-63, in Rous and Ford, 1974, 17).

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Such a provision indicates that at Harrow, as elsewhere, the dynamics of playing games raised new questions and „controversies‟. In order to avoid disputes and/or disruption in future games, these had to be addressed and „legislated‟ for. Formal structures were introduced at various schools in order to negotiate agreement on the rules and/or to allow any questions which had arisen during play to be discussed. The setting down of rules on paper, the introduction of an external authority to supervise play, and the development of external bodies to consider the rules and negotiate consensus on them (at Harrow, the committee; at Rugby, the levées), all provide evidence to support Dunning and Sheard‟s contention that the folk forms of football in the public schools were in the early stages of codification and formal regulation during this period.

At Harrow, the rules allowed games to be played either with or without umpires. Umpires were to be appointed if they were available to supervise games, but if they were unavailable, then:

the head of the side, who is always responsible for the regularity of the play, shall act as umpire for his own side (in Pickford, 1906a, 2).

Self Rule and ‘Gentlemanly’ Conduct As this rule indicates, during the early Harrow games the „onus of control‟ was on the players themselves. This was not unique to Harrow; rather, as a number of authors have discussed, it was embodied in many of the public school football rules, with each team choosing their own umpires (see for example: Witty, 1960d, 180; Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 96 and; Thompson, 1998, 9). This practice of selecting individuals who were relatively highly involved in the game to supervise play has been explained in relation to the central aim of the public schools, which was to train and shape pupils into „gentlemen‟. Part of this training, as Dunning and Sheard (1979, 97) note, was

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a stress on self-rule – embodied in the reformed prefect-fagging system. Another „gentlemanly attribute‟ which the boys were expected to develop was self-control. The relatively violent physical contact permitted in games at this time was seen to make football a good testing ground; a suitable context for boys to acquire and hone the „gentlemanly‟ skill of self restraint14. The various football codes were developed in relation to these beliefs about the educational and moral value of „playing the game‟. Several authors have argued that, in this context, the emergent written rules were underpinned by the assumption that players would not intentionally break them. For example, Dunning and Sheard suggest that the first Rugby rules were premised on:

[t]he assumption that no player would deliberately contravene the rules, and that in cases of dispute, all would abide by their captains‟ decisions (1979, 97).

Again, our knowledge of the way games were actually played is limited by the available evidence. Retrospective late 19th century accounts of public school football tend to support the idea that games were played in the kind of „spirit‟ that they were „meant‟ to be played in, as identified by Dunning and Sheard, above. Writing towards the end of the 19th century Harrow „old boy‟, Manley Kemp argued, for example: “[i]t speaks volumes for the fairness of [Harrow] boys at their games that the absence of penalties is not felt to be absurd, and that the discretionary powers vested in umpires when appointed are seldom, if ever, enforced” (1899, 64). Similarly, Shearman (1887) observed of the Harrow game: “there is practically no penalty for breaking any of the rules. It has been found after many years‟ experience quite unnecessary to inflict one” (1887, 290).

However, whilst these descriptions of the Harrow game support the idea that it was played in a „gentlemanly‟ spirit towards the end of the 19th century, unfortunately they tell us nothing about the way it was played prior to this. Kemp‟s account was produced almost 50 years after the written code was

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introduced at Harrow, and he is only able to recall the game since 1874 (1899, 64). He is therefore unable to shed any light on the period when written rules were first introduced, nor can he enlighten us about any changes in the intervening years. Further, the reliability of his assessment must come into question, given the potential for his recollections about his old school to have been „tainted‟ by romanticism and/or shaped by loyalty. Likewise, Shearman‟s view that it was “unnecessary” to impose penalties for rule breaking cannot be taken at face value, but has to be understood in the context of his beliefs about the way the game was „meant‟ to be played. His suggestion that there was no „need‟ for penalties is framed by a commitment to a particular ideology, evident in his description of the Harrow game as “fast and manly, [with] no penalties or ceremonies which waste time” (1887, 290). In other words, his preferred game was one played without interruption, where pupils were left to „get on with it‟. Shearman‟s account provides an early example of a belief still popular today: that the best games are those which „flow‟ without intervention from match supervisors. However, his preference for this type of game makes it difficult to judge the accuracy of his statement that penalties were „unnecessary‟ and, as a result, the reliability of his account comes into question. As these two examples demonstrate, evidence on the public school games must, then, be used with certain provisos about reliability in mind. Having said this, it is apparent that the necessary caution has not always been exercised by writers on the public school game. Despite the minimal evidence and the limitations of what evidence there is, Witty, for example, makes the following claim about the early public school games:

... it was never even thought that a player would intentionally do anything to hurt an opponent. Such conduct would be „ungentlemanly‟, and that was an unpardonable offence; accidents were within reason, but the lowering of self-control to the depths of ungentlemanly conduct was something which could not be tolerated (1960d, 180).

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This kind of assessment concerning how boys were expected to play is representative of the dominant understanding of 19th century public school football. However, the extent to which beliefs about the „gentlemanly‟ spirit in which the game was meant to be played were actually realised in play is unclear. Given the limited evidence, we really cannot be sure whether players always, usually, or occasionally abided by their captain‟s decisions and whether they often, sometimes, or never intended to hurt their opponents. Our understanding of football in the public schools has often been impeded by a tendency evident in much of the literature, and in Witty‟s analysis above, to „romanticise‟ and idealise the period. In this way it is often implied that players knew nothing of „serious competition‟ and that they played for „the sake of playing‟ rather than winning. Such thinking is evident, for example, in the writing of , FA President from 1937-39, and co-editor (with Alfred Gibson) of Association Football & The Men Who Made It (1906). Pickford says of the team captains being “responsible for the regularity of play” at Harrow, “[w]hat an age of innocence must 1870 have been” (1906a, 2).

Although the organisation of the game had become comparatively sophisticated by the time Pickford was writing, and the level of competition more intense both inside and outside the schools, it has to be asked why we should assume that there was ever such an „age of innocence‟. Pickford‟s analysis may have been shaped by retrospective accounts such as those produced by Kemp (1899) and Shearman (1887), but simply because the rules made provision for the captains to act as arbiters does not mean that we can assume that their authority was always willingly accepted. Nor can we assume that the captains did not „cheat‟, or that they were unbiased. Perhaps games supervised by captains were fraught with arguments. As noted previously, Pickford himself recalls “the abrupt closing” of adult games played without supervision: early public school matches may well have

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ended in the same way. In this context, questions can be raised about Witty‟s conclusion that, “[I]t was never even thought that a player would intentionally do anything to hurt an opponent”. Certainly, the ideology of „gentlemanly conduct‟, „self-control‟ and fairness embodied the idea that players shouldn’t act to deliberately hurt each other, shouldn’t deliberately contravene the rules, but whether the players shared that ideology is simply not known. Most often, it is simply taken for granted that they did.

Witty‟s account, published in one of the most widely referenced histories of the game, has perhaps been seen as so „authoritative‟ that researchers (myself included – see Colwell, 2000a, 202) have tended not to look beyond the conclusions he comes to. However, there is some evidence to suggest that public school games were not always played in the „gentlemanly spirit‟ usually associated with them. The strongest evidence comes from the Harrow rules, where the umpires were entitled “to put out of the game any player wilfully breaking any of the football rules” (in Witty, 1960, 141)15. Whilst Shearman suggested that “in practice [this power] has very seldom to be exercised” (1887, 290), it is significant that at some point in the history of the Harrow game it was necessary to incorporate it into the rules. The wording of this rule suggests that, contrary to Witty‟s assertions and the ideology of „gentlemanly conduct‟, players did - sometimes at least – deliberately contravene the rules. For, as Witty himself suggests, “laws governing play came out of the actual playing of the game” (1960a, 139). In order for the Harrow rules to have embodied the principle of penalising anyone wilfully breaking them indicates that players had indulged in the practice. Further, despite Witty‟s assertion that there was an expectation that players would conduct themselves in a „gentlemanly manner‟, the existence of this rule demonstrates that there was also a recognition that players would not always meet that expectation. The severity of the penalty, in today‟s terminology a sending off, supports Witty‟s contention that such a failure was strongly disapproved of.

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It may also be significant that many of the school football rules made provision for the possibility that, even with umpires, disputes would occur. For example, at Cheltenham the umpires and referee were described as “the sole arbiters of all disputes” (in Witty, 1960a, 141). As Dunning and Sheard (1979, 93) argue, it is likely that the more equal power relations between pupils which emerged as a result of the public school reforms allowed formerly subordinate boys to express their opinions on „fair‟ or „unfair‟ play more freely than had previously been the case. If so, it is feasible that this led to prolonged discussions and disruptions during games. In this context, perhaps the fact that it was necessary to tell players in the written codes that the umpires‟ rulings were final might indicate that their decisions were not always accepted, even if they „should‟ have been. This possibility is given weight if we consider again Witty‟s notion that „the game came first‟ followed by the legislation. Like Cheltenham, the Rugby rules described the two captains or their appointed deputies as the “sole arbiters” of disputes (in Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 96), whilst the rules of Winchester and Harrow stressed that the umpires‟ decisions were “final” (in Witty, 1960a, 141). Following Witty‟s line of argument, these rules would have been framed in response to situations which arose during play, perhaps suggesting that – again, sometimes at least - umpires‟ and referees‟ verdicts were questioned by „gentlemanly‟ schoolboys.

Conclusions And Implications For The Understanding The Long Term Development Of Refereeing Problems Given the limited evidence, of course these ideas remain speculative. As noted previously, some of the early football rules appear to have been „borrowed‟ from cricket and, as such, perhaps little thought was given to the need for disputes to be resolved during football games. Players may well have accepted umpires‟ decisions without question, as they were expected to, and may never have intended to hurt their opponents. The questions raised here

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are certainly not enough to „disprove‟ these traditional and dominant understandings of football in the public schools. Yet they do point to the need for caution when making assertions about how games were played based on an analysis of the rules framing the way they should have been played16.

In terms of trying to understand refereeing problems this is a central issue. The assumption that such a „straightforward‟ relationship existed between ideologies of how the game was meant to be played (framed in the rules) and how it actually was played (framed by the players‟ ideologies) has meant that the potential disparity between these ideologies has been ignored. The possibility that games in the public schools during this period were not always played in the „gentlemanly spirit‟ most often associated with them has some important implications for our understanding of the problems associated with contemporary officiating. These implications are introduced and discussed briefly here, but are explored in much greater depth later in this thesis.

In the contemporary game, disputes with match officials are often understood as arising from the increasing seriousness of the game, in terms of more intense competition and higher financial stakes. Whilst, undoubtedly, these factors do affect the relationships between players and officials, it is argued that the evidence presented in this chapter points to two more fundamental and perennial causes of conflict in relation to refereeing. The first of these is the potential disparity between the ideologies of those framing the laws (i.e., games should be played fairly) and the ideologies of the players themselves (i.e., games should be played „to win at all costs‟). This disparity creates opportunities for conflict to arise between match officials and players. The fact that there seems to have been a disparity between the prevailing ideology of „gentlemanly conduct‟ underpinning the rules and the ideology of those playing the game at the very early stages of football‟s development – i.e., at least one code made provision for players deliberately breaking the rules - provides some evidence to support this notion.

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Interpreting the Laws The second fundamental issue relates to the need for rules to be interpreted. In essence, the process of interpretation is subjective and is therefore open to contestation. In this sense, the dynamic nature of football may generate conflict between those supervising games and interpreting the rules, and those playing them and interpreting the rules – almost regardless of the level of competition and the significance of winning or losing. Again, the fact that the early public school written codes made provisions to deal with disputes when they occurred provides evidence to support this contention. Further evidence that the interpretation of the rules was problematic at this early stage comes from a number of the other school codes discussed here. At Cheltenham and Eton the rules introduced an additional „external agent‟, a referee, to decide on cases where the umpires themselves were unable to agree. Interestingly, this provision was made in the initial Eton Field Game rules in 1847. Similarly, the provision that umpires could refer “matters of law” to an external committee at Harrow suggests that problems concerning the interpretation of the emergent rules occurred during play. Because these issues arose at such an early and comparatively uncompetitive stage in the game‟s history (i.e., prior to the professionalisation of football), they indicate that there are underlying, long-term problems related to refereeing which need to be understood in order to be in a position to address contemporary refereeing dilemmas. These issues are addressed in detail later in this thesis. The next chapter, however, returns to the development of football and refereeing.

1 See, for example: Curry, 2002; Dunning and Curry, 2002; Harvey, 2001; Goulstone, 2000; Dunning and Sheard, 1979; Walvin, 1974; Young, 1968; Lowndes, 1964; Green, 1953; 1956; 1960b, 1960c; Magoun, 1929; Shearman, 1899, 1887. 2 Although published later, it is likely that Green is referring to Edward Moor‟s (1823) Suffolk Words and Phrases which contains retrospective accounts of East Anglian „Camp Ball‟ (see Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 40).. 3 In light of Goulstone and Harvey‟s evidence, it is clear that adaptations to folk games also occurred in games played outside of the schools. 4 For a more detailed exploration of the prefect fagging system and of the reasons why such a system emerged in the public schools, see Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 46-60.

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5 Again, Dunning and Sheard assess these changes in much more depth than is possible, or relevant here. See 1979, 65-78. See also Dunning (1999, 91-93).. 6 Called a Bigside levee (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 92). 7 In summary, the following were all permitted: charging, holding (with one arm), hacking, (not with the heel and not above the knee), catching direct from a kick, knocking on, throwing and running in, place kicking, drop kicking and punting. Boots with projecting nails or iron plates on the soles or heel were forbidden. See Dunning and Sheard (1979, 91-96) for a detailed assessment of these rules. 8 Thompson (1998) does refer to written rules at Winchester and Harrow in 1847 (1998, 13-18), but it seems likely that he is actually quoting from Witty‟s work (1960d, 181-182). Thompson quotes only the rules Witty cites and has clearly borrowed from Witty elsewhere in his chapter on public school football - although this is not always evident from his referencing. He cites Witty twice (pages 9 & 12), but also makes direct quotations which are not acknowledged as such. For example, the phrase “the possibility of damage or even casual injury...” in Thompson (1998, 9) actually comes from Witty (1960d, 181). 9 The Eton Headmaster in 1961 is cited as the source for this date (1979, 308n) 10 See Shearman (1887, 281-288), Macnaghten (1899a 36-48 and 1899b 49-63), and Arlott (1977, 250-252 and 255-258) for detailed descriptions of the Eton games. 11 Dunning and Sheard reference J. B. Oldham‟s A History of Shrewsbury School for this date. However, the authors give its publication date as 1852 (1979, 308n) meaning it would have pre-dated the written rules they suggest it refers to by some 3 years! It was actually published in 1952. 12 I am very grateful to Graham Curry for providing me with copies of the original 1847 Eton Code and the 1858 Harrow rules. 13 Holt (1989) suggests the first written rules actually date from 1727 and were drawn up by the Duke of Richmond. 14 The promotion of team games as a means of moral education, termed „muscular Christianity‟ was led by G.E.L Cotton who was head of Marlborough College from 1852. See McIntosh (1980) for a detailed discussion of muscular Christianity. 15 Witty (1960a, 181-2) and Thompson (1998, 15-16) suggest this rule comes from an 1847 Harrow code. However, it does not appear in the original copy of the 1858 rules, so Rous and Ford‟s (1974, 16-17) citation, suggesting it comes from the 1860-63 rules may be more accurate. 16 Harvey‟s analysis of British sport from 1793-1850 provides a striking example of this. He suggests, for example, that: “[t]he picture that we have of most „traditional‟ sporting events, which portrays them as violent and unruly, is unrepresentative,” and: “[f]undamentally, the vast bulk of sporting events that were conducted in Britain between 1793 and 1850 were administered by strict rules that prevented cheating [my italics]. Consequently it was worth competitors cultivating their skill... Predominantly, sport was a skilful pursuit, governed by a framework of laws that were administered by referees” (Harvey, 1995, 226- 227). However, he later cites extensive evidence which completely contradicts this claim. For example, citing a reference from 1820, he suggests: “[s]ometimes, the crowd were left to ensure fair play, which they did by beating up cheats” (1995, 264). He notes that “in Manchester during the 1840‟s [sic] disputed verdicts, often resulting in fights, were common in foot racing. This was often the case elsewhere, and a variety of sports were afflicted” (1995, 269-270), and, “[t]he most profound principle of all, that the referees [sic] decision must be obeyed, was also eroded” (1995, 270). He also notes that, after 1845: “it was declared that boxers whose fans threatened the referee would be disqualified. However, in 1850 the editor of Bell’s Life, while refereeing a fight, was beaten up by the losers [sic] fans. Effectively, organised pugilism had become little more than anarchy” (1995, 271), and: “by the 1840‟s [sic] the police often ensured „fair play‟ [in sporting contests] by preventing criminals intruding” (1995, 267). Perhaps most tellingly of all he argues: “Some sports might just as well have not had rules” (1995, 272) and: “[c]heating, often on a systematic basis, was present in every sport, touching referees, competitors, stakeholders and spectators, whether they were „gentlemen‟ or not” (275). This evidence casts serious doubt on Harvey‟s argument and, more significantly, on his critique of the traditional understanding of football‟s development espoused by Dunning and Sheard (1979), an issue which is addressed again in Chapter Four.

93 Chapter Four: Written Rules and The Laws of the Game This chapter explores the development of refereeing between the 1840s and the end of the 19th century. As noted in Chapter Three, this period broadly constitutes the fourth stage in Dunning and Sheard‟s model of football development, with the diffusion of public school games and the rapid development of independent football clubs. An assessment of early football codes and the FA Laws of the Game forms an integral element of this analysis. With relatively little literature on football from this period, the written rules provide us with the best evidence we have on match officials, and so they are considered in some detail. Initially, the preliminary attempts to amalgamate the different school rules during the late 1840s are considered. Once again, whilst the „general‟ development of football is outlined in order to provide the context for understanding the way refereeing evolved, it has been subject to detailed examination elsewhere in the historical literature1 and, as such, is dealt with relatively briefly here. Next, attention is paid to the various football codes which preceded the first FA Laws, such as those played at Cambridge University and in Sheffield. The FA‟s institution in 1863 and the processes leading to the publication of the first FA Laws of the Game are then discussed. Alongside this, Harvey‟s (2001) critiques of the existing historical literature on the development of the FA and its laws are explored. Next, consideration is given to the FA‟s ongoing efforts to diffuse its laws and to gain widespread acceptance for them. In the final half of this chapter, the introduction of match officials in the FA code is documented, and changes to match officiating through to the end of the century are explored. The focus in this latter section is on the evidence provided by the Laws of the Game throughout this period. As such, this chapter focuses on the basic detail about officiating. Other significant issues such as the organisation, training and status of match officials are not considered here, but are explored in depth in the following chapter.

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Inter School Games Witty suggests that concrete evidence exists of a game taking place between Westminster and Harrow as early as 1852 - though he provides no reference for this - and that inter-school matches had become fairly common by the 1860s (1960a, 140). Harvey (2001) has recently documented evidence which supports this latter claim, whilst Dunning and Sheard (1979) argue that intra- school matches (i.e., House matches) were common from the mid to late 19th century, but that inter-school games did not become ”the norm until the 1890s” (1979, 102; see also Dunning and Curry, 2002). There were significant barriers to matches being played, particularly in relation to „logistical‟ problems created by the relatively rudimentary mid 19th century transport and communication systems (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 59). These problems were compounded by the different versions of football played at the schools. The differences between the school codes, with variations in the size of playing pitch, type of goal and the degree of handling permitted, for example, meant that rules needed to be agreed before games were played. This process is likely to have been fraught with difficulty, particularly given the status rivalry between schools identified by Dunning and Sheard (see 1979, 83-4 and 102-3).

In this context, the traditions which had shaped the way football was played at each school and the specifics of each game were a source of pride, gradually coming to be seen as an important aspect of a school‟s „identity‟. In general, this led to a reluctance to compromise on the different school codes. As Dunning and Sheard (1979, 102) argue, this reluctance can also be understood in relation to the “high status barriers” between schools. These barriers are seen by Dunning and Sheard as the chief obstacle to inter-school competition during the period, as public school pupils would only play against other schools “which they recognized unequivocally as public schools” (1979, 102). This „status-exclusivity‟ was “central in preventing the early organization of regular inter-school matches”, so that, “even though

95 they had formed the setting in which incipient modernization took place, these schools were not destined to play a part in the formation of unified rules” (1979, 103). In fact, although the development of a universal set of rules was not, at this time, being pursued by members of the public schools, as Arlott (1977, 295) and Harvey (2001, 63-64) note, this reluctance to compromise impeded later efforts to develop a national code.

One of the most significant distinctions between school codes at this stage concerned the degree of handling permitted in games. By the mid 19th century2, a greater degree of handling was permitted in the football played at Rugby, Marlborough and Cheltenham than in the type of games played at Eton, Westminster, Charterhouse, Shrewsbury and Harrow (Shearman, 1887, 275; Green, 1956, 23-24). The former games had more in common with what came to be the rugby code, whilst the latter, “bound by the all-important principle of kicking and dribbling the ball” (Green, 1956, 23-24) were more closely related to what became association football. It should be remembered, however, that at this time no such formal distinction between the two codes existed and there were many characteristics which these games shared. In the next section of this chapter, the processes leading to the „split‟ between the football and rugby style games are considered.

Football Rules Prior to The FA’s Institution Progress towards what was in essence an amalgamation of several different public school codes was made at Cambridge University. The first set of compromise rules were initially drawn up at Cambridge between 1837 and 1842 (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 104; Dunning and Curry, 2002, 203). Notably, these initial rules predated the existence of any written codes in the public schools. As such they are instructive for understanding some of the conditions under which a demand is created for written rather than oral rules. Pupils in the schools played within what Riesman and Denney have described as “a rich context of meaningful rules and traditions” (1954, 225). In

96 other words, over time a „shared understanding‟ about what was, or was not permitted in games had gradually been established in each of the schools. Pupils probably came to know what was or was not permitted through the experience of playing and through debate and disagreement with other, more knowledgeable, experienced or senior pupils. As we have seen, within the confines of the public schools, these shared understandings were apparently enough to facilitate games being played without the need for written rules - until the rules became relatively complex in the late 1840s-1860s.

However, when pupils from different schools found themselves “thrown together” at Cambridge University there was no such shared understanding, because pupils had been brought up “according to different football traditions” (Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 103). Relatively few boys from each of the public schools went on to Cambridge University and so pupils from different schools had to play together. In 1846, for example, former pupils from Shrewsbury and Eton joined together to form a club but few matches were played and the club appears to have „disbanded‟ by 1848 (Green, 1953, 15; Witty, 1960a, 142). Dunning and Sheard suggest that without commonly understood rules the early Cambridge games “were fraught with tension” and that “the desire to avoid this ... led to attempts to construct unified rules” (1979, 104). In fact, on a more rudimentary level, this desire was perhaps motivated by a recognition borne of experience; that without common rules or „shared understandings‟, games would have been more or less unplayable. For, without widely understood and broadly accepted rules, it is likely that games were subject to regular interruptions, disagreements and discussions about what was or was not permitted. At best, such occurrences are liable to have significantly diminished the pleasure in playing and, at worst, games may well have been brought to a halt.

There is relatively little evidence about the early Cambridge games, but one source does support this interpretation. H. C. Malden, a student at Trinity

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College, Cambridge recollected that the first attempts to play football resulted in “dire confusion, as every man played the rules he had been accustomed to at his public school” (Malden, cited in Green 1956, 273). In this sense the development of a written code was simply pragmatic. For such a code to be established and then accepted as the code under which football would be played at Cambridge required both compromise and a degree of consensus from the different groups of „old boys‟, who had to relinquish aspects of their own specific football traditions in order to play together. As we shall see later, similar circumstances – the coming together of different groups with divergent footballing traditions, coupled with a desire to broaden the scope for playing other teams and, eventually, a willingness to compromise - facilitated the gradual establishment of the FA and a unified code.

Minimal evidence exists on the „common rules‟ established at Cambridge between 1837-42 and in 1846 but a little more is known about the processes by which the 1848 rules were established, although no copy of the rules survives. The rules of the „University Foot Ball Club‟ were set down on paper in 1848, agreed upon by a committee comprising two former pupils from each of Eton, Harrow, Winchester, Shrewsbury and Rugby, along with two other “independent parties” (i.e., non-public schoolboys) (Witty, 1960a, 143)4. The earliest surviving Cambridge rules date from 1856, a year in which they were revised (Witty, 1960a, 143. See also Sykes, 1897, 586-85). Interestingly, Sykes, a student at Cambridge in the 1850s, appears to have been unaware of the 1848 code, which suggests that the University Foot Ball Club did not survive for long. He suggests that, prior to 1856: “University Football consisted in a sort of general melee on Parker‟s Piece, from 1.30 to 3.30 p.m. ... There were no rules ... The hand was freely used, everyone adopting his own view, until a crisis was reached in 1856, resulting in the drawing up of [the 1856] rules” (Sykes, 1897, 586). These rules forbade running with the ball, although players were permitted to catch it directly from a kick. Holding a player, pushing with the hands and tripping up were all prohibited (in Witty, 1960a, 144), but

98 no mention was made of any individual(s) to oversee the game and ensure that the rules were followed. Further revisions in 1863, again agreed upon by committee members who had been educated at the public schools6, prohibited handling or hitting the ball with any part of the hands, arms or shoulders (in Witty, 1960a, 146). Once again, no mention was made of third parties supervising play.

The Cambridge rules were adopted and revised by a number of clubs, amongst them Forest FC and Barnes FC (see Witty (1960a, 144), Mason (1981, 22) and Harvey, (2001, 55)). One of Forest FC‟s founders was Charles Alcock, an Old Harrovian and later Secretary and Vice President of the FA. As Mason demonstrates, the club advertised for opponents in the sporting press, with fixtures to be played to “the rules of the University of Cambridge” (from Bell’s Life, 7th October, 1862, cited by Mason, 1981, 22). Both Forest and Barnes FC‟s rules made provision to deal with players deliberately breaking them, introducing the principle of fining players for intentional breaches. The rules of Forest FC stated: “for any wilful infringement of the rules of the game, a fine of Two Shillings and Sixpence be inflicted” (in Witty, 1960a, 144), whilst Barnes FC similarly penalised players with a one shilling fine. Witty suggests that the Cambridge rules also formed the basis of JC Thring‟s version of football. Thring, who had been at Cambridge in 1846, was master at Uppingham School when he published his rules of „The Simplest Game‟ in 1862. Thring‟s code included the instruction that “kicks must be aimed only at the ball” and prohibited tripping up and heel kicking (in Rous and Ford, 1979, 15-16). Once again, there was no mention of any match supervisors in this written code, nor any reference to the team captains being responsible for the conduct of their players.

The Establishment of The FA & The Rugby-Soccer Split Both the 1863 Cambridge rules and Thring‟s „Simplest Game‟ were drawn upon by the founder members of The FA as they attempted to develop an

99 unified national football code, a process initiated in October 18637. The first meeting of The FA was attended by representatives of clubs from London and the Home Counties, with Charterhouse the only public school represented (see Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 108; Arlott, 1977, 295 and; Green, 1960c, 50). Six meetings took place between October and December 1863 and by the meeting fourth on November 24th, the draft FA rules had been drawn up. As has been discussed at length elsewhere, two rules set down in this draft caused much discussion and significant divisions between FA members8. These rules concerned whether or not the fledgling Association rules should permit running with the ball and hacking, both of which were central features of the rugby-like games. Green has noted that the original aim of the FA‟s founder members had been to “embrace all the best features of both the dribbling and the handling philosophies” (Green, 1956, 30). As such, the original FA draft rules allowed both running with the ball and hacking (in Laws IX and X). Although there appears to have been consensus on these „all embracing‟ draft laws when they were initially put to members, this apparent unity was fleeting and the issue proved to be the watershed for the formal „split‟ between what became the association and rugby codes.

At the fourth meeting of the FA it was proposed that the Cambridge rules - which permitted neither running with the ball nor hacking– should be considered as a model for the FA code. Green (1953, 28) notes that, prior to the vote on Laws IX and X at the fifth meeting, a letter requesting enrolment into the FA from the Sheffield Football Club secretary, Chesterman, was read. In it, he suggested these aspects of the proposed laws were “directly opposed to football” and were “more like wrestling” (letter to FA Committee, November 30th 1863, in Young, 1962, 20). This view was echoed by the FA secretary, Morley, who felt that to “carry those two rules [would] be seriously detrimental to the great majority of football clubs” (in Green, 1953, 29). Indeed, a majority of those present at the fifth meeting felt similarly and so hacking and running with the ball were forbidden in the finalised FA Laws9.

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This was against the wishes of The Blackheath Club representative, FW Campbell, in particular, who, as a result felt it was his “duty to withdraw” Blackheath from FA membership (Green, 1960c, 53). It is interesting that despite this, Campbell continued in his role as FA treasurer (Harvey, 2001, 68) which perhaps suggests that the „split‟ was not necessarily entirely acrimonious. The Blackheath Club members were later instrumental in setting up the Rugby Football Union in 1871. The rules were accepted at the sixth meeting of the FA on December 8th, and the FA sanctioned the official code, authorising John Lillywhite to print the new Laws (Green, 1953, 32)10.

Critiques of the Existing Histories on The FA’s Development

The importance of public school football in the process of establishing a national football code has recently been questioned by Harvey. As part of his wider critique of the traditional understanding of football‟s development, Harvey (2001, 58) has argued “until some hard evidence is produced in support of public school football‟s influence on the wider society, we are fully justified in treating such views with caution”. However, the influence of public school games is apparent when the first explicit attempts to develop a unified code are considered. That influence was not „direct‟, for the public schools were almost entirely absent from the initial meeting of the FA. Indeed, as Green (1953, 20-22) has noted, the public schools all either declined or ignored the FA secretary‟s written invitations to enrol with the FA after the first meeting. Yet the connections between the public schools and the initial FA code are apparent when understood developmentally and figurationally. In short, rules developed in the public schools were later modified and adapted at Cambridge, those rules were subsequently adapted by Thring and at clubs such as Forest FC, and both the 1863 Cambridge rules and Thring‟s code were in turn considered by the founders of the FA as they attempted to develop a single national code. The FA‟s impact on the “wider society” was not, as discussed below, immediate, but considered in the long term it can hardly be assessed as insignificant! Further, as Rous and Ford (1974, 17) note,

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“several of the most important officials of the Football Association were old Harrovians, such as J. F. and C. W. Alcock, M. P. Betts and R. De C. Welch”; and “[q]uite a number of those who were influential in the legislating councils of the Football Association were Old Etonians” (1974, 18). Since this evidence has been cited by many football historians, one can only assume that Harvey remains unconvinced. However, the existing empirical evidence supports the view that the public school games were an integral aspect in the antecedents and development of football.

The Development of The FA & the Diffusion of The FA Laws of the Game By the FA‟s 6th meeting in December 1863, the organisation constituted 18 clubs (Harvey, 2001, 68). Green has noted that the FA code was not accepted by clubs playing diverse types of football, suggesting there “were dissentients here and there even among their early enrolled members” (Green, 1960c, 55). Harvey has subjected the early years of the FA to rather more critical analysis than this and notes that whilst the number of football clubs in London increased from 31 in 1864 to 79 by 1867, the majority of these clubs did not adopt the FA code but played according to different rules (2001, 70). Harvey attributes the FA‟s relative weakness to a lack of credibility resulting from the organisation‟s failure “to resolve the problems relating to rules” (Harvey, 2001, 70), but it is questionable whether the founders of the FA saw such a task as „part of their remit‟ in these early stages – or, indeed, whether resolving such difficulties would have been at all feasible by an organisation such as the FA at this time. These developments need to be understood, as Dunning and Sheard (1979, 110) observe, as aspects of a “long-term process, not a sudden, total transformation” (see also Elias, 1986b, pp. 155-6).

Whilst several matches were played under the new FA rules, the organisation was effectively “dormant” between January 1864, when the first match was played under FA rules, until 1866, meeting only twice (Harvey, 2001, 85n). The FA was, as Mason puts it, “basically an agreement between [clubs] to

102 play each other under the same rules” (1980, 15) and in assessing the „impact‟ of its early code it is necessary to avoid judging the FA by modern understandings of the organisation. It seems that having agreed upon a code, and without the administrative apparatus to do otherwise, members of the FA left it to its member clubs to get on with playing by FA rules. In its infancy the FA was a relatively disparate collection of football clubs. It was not an organisation imbued with the authority to „enforce‟ its new laws on clubs or schools wedded to their traditional versions of football, each convinced of the “efficacy and wisdom” of their own rules (Green, 1953, 557). Indeed, as Harvey himself notes, in 1867, some four years after the FA was formed, members of the FA still saw their “sole purpose” as creating “a set of rules that clubs could utilize”, and did not envisage “any role for the Association in promoting, organizing, and regulating activity” (Harvey, 2001, 74). Similarly, Harvey‟s (2001, 71) surprise at the FA‟s lack of interest in the forms of football being played outside of London (specifically in Sheffield, as discussed below) fails to take into account the social infra-structure and the cultural context in which the FA was developing. Communication and transport between London and the provinces at this time was relatively poor. „Media‟ coverage of football in Sheffield was limited to local, rather than national newspapers, something which is evidenced by the fact that the majority of Harvey‟s research into Sheffield football comes from The Sheffield and Rotherham Advertiser, The Sheffield Daily Telegraph and Sheffield FC records. Whilst such archives are readily accessible to the contemporary historian, they would probably have been less obvious sources of information to the early members of the FA.

As noted, as the FA attempted to develop a national code, football was being played and organised at local level, subject to local variations and traditions. These traditions were not suddenly relinquished because the FA announced its intent to advance from a situation of local variation to one of national unity. Such a shift would have required significant organisational

103 sophistication and a willingness of individual clubs to stop playing their traditional games. Unsurprisingly, these changes did not „just happen‟ simply because the FA had announced its intent, but were dependent on shifting relations of power between the clubs and The FA. In its early years, The FA was not a powerful enough organisation to effect such change. Power was relatively decentralised and thus clubs and, in particular, the public schools remained relatively autonomous. Clubs willing to play the type of football allowed by FA rules remained part of the FA‟s network. Clubs and public schools not wanting to play to the FA rules either „opted out‟ in order to continue playing their own games or, like Sheffield FC, remained enrolled whilst continuing to play by their own rules. Indeed, the fact that the FA accepted the membership of a club which was explicitly playing a different version of football is a particularly pertinent example of the FA‟s relative weakness at that time. The public schools, Westminster and Charterhouse, „opted in‟ in 1867 (Shearman, 1887, 336) after the FA had amended its offside law11. This change brought the FA rules more in line with those governing the football played at these schools and would seem to be another example of the public school influence on the development of the national code. Establishing a national code was a gradual process which relied on such developments as improved forms of communication and transport, a willingness of clubs to play under the FA „umbrella‟ and a shift in the power relationships between the FA and clubs, whereby power became more centralised and the FA became the accepted administrative centre for football. The processes which led to the development of a genuinely „uniform code‟ for association football are discussed below, before the actual laws relating to match officials are explored in depth.

The Sheffield Influence on The FA Laws The development of the early FA laws was strongly influenced, as Green (1960c, 56), Witty (1960b, 151-152) and latterly Harvey (2001) have noted, by „The Sheffield Rules‟, particularly in terms of the development of refereeing.

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Sheffield was “one of the earliest football centres of all” (Green, 1960c, 56), with 19 teams established by 1867 (Harvey, 2001, 62). Sheffield FC, formally established in 1857, was central to the thriving local football culture and had produced its first printed code by 1862. Harvey notes the club determined to play only by their rules, but, in parallel with the development of the FA code, the process of establishing a code agreed to by other teams sometimes resulted in disputes (2001, 61 and 83n). However, over time „The Sheffield Rules‟ became dominant in the area, and by 1867 many local clubs played by this code. In 1866 the secretary of Sheffield FC, WJ Chesterman, proposed a match between his club, which, as noted, had enrolled with the FA in 1863, and an FA representative team. The initial fixture was played in London according to FA rules, the return game according to Sheffield rules. Because the teams played under different laws “certain basic conditions were laid down”, including the size of the ground (120 x 80 yards), the „kit‟ to be worn, the ball to be used and the start and finish time of the match (3 to 4-30pm) (Witty, 1960b, 151). As Witty (1960b, 151) suggests, the “significance of these conditions cannot be overlooked”, for they became established aspects of the national code.

Chesterman‟s approach to the FA is described by Green as “one of the most important points to note in those early days”, coming at a time when the FA was “trying to consolidate their early, stuttering gains” (1960c, 56). Following this, in 1867, the FA sent a circular to all clubs in the country advertising the FA‟s laws (Harvey, 2001, 74) and also organised a series of representative county matches which were publicised in newspapers (Green, 1960c, 56). The relationship between Sheffield FC and the FA is illustrative in terms of understanding the shifting power relations between the clubs and the organisation set up to become football‟s administrative centre. At the FA‟s formation, Sheffield chose to enrol but remained relatively autonomous and continued to play according to the Sheffield rules. The representative matches between Sheffield and the FA, which continued until the end of the 19th

105 century, provided opportunities for what could be described as „an exchange of ideas‟ between members of Sheffield FC and the FA in terms of their respective rules. Between 1871-1876, a number of matches were played either to the Sheffield rules, the FA code, or a mixture of the two codes (see Young, 1962, 28-29). Some aspects of their rules were similar (see Witty, 1960b, 150- 152 for a detailed comparison) but some of the distinctive features of the Sheffield code were “later embodied in the [FA] laws” (Witty, 1960b, 151)12. The Sheffield and FA rules differed until April 1877, when an uniform code of laws was agreed between the two associations (Green, 1953, 564). As noted, the FA retained its offside rule but a concession was made to the Sheffield Association in an alteration to the throw in. Players were now permitted to throw the ball “in any direction the player chooses”, rather than at a right angle to the touchline (in Witty, 1960b, 155).

Once again, pragmatic considerations probably drove this process as the representative matches between the FA and the Sheffield Association created a demand for what Witty describes as “an assimilation of practice to avoid confusion” (1960d, 182) and as such these games were an important aspect of the development of a universal code. Coupled with this, the introduction of international representative matches, the first of which occurred between England and Scotland on November 30th, 1872, also resulted in conflict over the differences between the codes used. The Scottish Football Association (SFA) (formed in 1873) adopted the FA Laws, but with two variations relating to offside and throw ins. Like the clubs who initially enrolled with the FA, the SFA remained relatively autonomous from the English Association. Although members of the FA by now argued that the English association would be the governing body for football, the SFA “firmly opposed this contention” and “reserved for themselves the right for freedom of action” regarding The Laws, resulting in disagreements when international matches were played (Green, 1953, 74).

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The Establishment of an Uniform Code These developments indicate, as Green (1953, 667) has noted, that during this period football‟s laws developed along a number of different lines, including those adopted by the FA, by the Universities and Public Schools, by the Sheffield Association and by the various United Kingdom Associations. In April 1881 a conference involving the Secretaries of various football associations was held to discuss the promotion of the game, involving representatives from the FAs of England, Wales (formed 1876), Scotland, Sheffield, Birmingham and all other challenge cup Associations. The Birmingham representative proposed that the SFA should consider adopting the FA‟s rules, something which was not taken up by the SFA. At the next Secretaries Conference, in April 1882, it was proposed that the FA and the SFA should meet to discuss The Laws in order to “work out a single code of rules for the whole of the United Kingdom” (Green, 1953, 76). Alcock, The FA secretary, wrote to the SFA to propose a meeting between two representatives from each association, which was declined. The SFA did amend their rule on throw ins “as a slight concession” (Green, 1953, 76), but also indicated that they would not send a representative to the next Secretaries Conference.

The FA committee was concerned that the differences between the FA and SFA rules were “not conducive to the interests of the game” (Green, 1953, 77). Having had little success enticing the SFA with the „carrot‟ of equal representation at meetings to discuss The Laws, the FA committee reached for the stick. In September 1882, the FA carried a motion that “the Committee of this Association cannot take any further steps towards arranging the international match until The Scottish Association appoints representatives to meet representatives of the Football Association, the Irish [formed in 1880] and the Welsh Associations, as unanimously approved at the last conference” (in Green, 1953, 77). With the latter three Associations united, it seems the SFA had little choice but to agree. As a result, the first „Conference of National Associations‟ was held in Manchester on December 6th 1882. The explicit aim

107 of the Conference was to establish an uniform code for the association game. The England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales FAs each had two representatives at the conference, which was chaired by the FA president Major FA Marindin (Green, 1953, 77; Jackson, 1900, 61). An uniform code was agreed “with concessions on all sides” (Green, 1953, 77) and then ratified by each of the four associations13. This code came into effect as the Laws of the Game of 1883-84, the same year of the first International championship between the four Associations (Rous and Ford, 1974, 32). As a result of this meeting the International Football Association Board (IFAB) was eventually formed. It first met in 1885, from which point “only one set of Laws, as agreed by the United Kingdom Associations – and later the representatives of the FIFA – upon that board, has obtained wherever Association football is played” (Green, 1953, 557). From its inception, the IFAB was established as the only body which could make alterations to the Laws of the Game, and any changes require an unanimous vote – principles which remain embodied in its rules (see Rous and Ford, 1974, 33-34 for the IFAB rules).

The Laws Having outlined the processes leading to the emergence of a single set of laws, the rest of this chapter specifically explores the introduction and development of match officials via a discussion of the Laws of the Game. This is largely, though not entirely, organised chronologically and covers the period from 1863 through to the 1890s. This period saw the most significant principles and practices governing match officiating become established in The Laws. Rous and Ford (1974) have provided a relatively comprehensive overview of the development of The Laws but, as Davies (1975) has argued, whilst they provide clear detail about „what happened‟, their efforts to explain “why the Laws were formulated in the precise manner that they were” are less successful (1975, 198). Here, an attempt is made to address this issue. The aim is to provide a relatively comprehensive summary of the more important law changes between 1863-92 without becoming too bogged down in a mass of detail. Coupled with this discussion of the most pertinent changes to The 108

Laws, explanations are also offered about why certain changes were made, particularly in terms of match officials. More recent significant changes to The Laws are discussed as and when relevant later in this thesis.

It should be noted that the task of extracting the significant changes to The Laws in the mid to late 19th century is made relatively difficult by their “complex and disjointed” nature (Rous, 1979, 86) – something which endured until 1938 when Rous, the then FA Secretary, undertook to redraft them14. As we shall see, many revisions and additions were incorporated into The Laws between 1863-1892, often as add-ons and clauses, etc., to the existing laws. As a result The Laws became “something of a jumble” with no “logical sequence” (Rous, 1979, 86). Similarly, “[p]unishments for certain offences were not clearly defined” and there were no “proper headings” (Rous, 1979, 86). Such issues mean that the process of trying to identify and track changes to The Laws is similarly complex and a somewhat daunting task! I have endeavoured to set out changes as clearly and unambiguously as possible in what follows. If clarification or a reminder is needed, a table of „key dates in the history of refereeing‟ is provided for cross-referencing in Appendix 4.

Although the “settlement of disputes” was one of many points the members of the FA identified as in need of consideration as they attempted to frame the FA Laws at their second meeting (see Green, 1953, 23-24), the 1863 FA code made no mention of referees or umpires to supervise play. Typically, the absence of „match officials‟ has been explained in terms which assume that players „regulated‟ themselves. For example, Lowndes has suggested:

referees were not considered necessary. Deliberate infringements of the rules, or taking unfair advantage of an opponent, occurred very infrequently, because these men observed a strict code of behaviour on the field; and when an offence was committed it was generally unintentional, and was owned up to at once. If there was an argument or dispute, the rival captains were usually able to settle it immediately, without

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imposing penalties. And any player who persistently refused to play fairly would be sent off the field by his own team-mates” (Lowndes, 1964, 21).

These kinds of beliefs are certainly widespread in the literature15. As noted previously, given the lack of available evidence on the way games were played during this period, it is difficult to establish how reliable such assessments are. There are some accounts which provide evidence to support the claim that disputes were resolved in a ‟gentlemanly‟ manner by the rival captains. Booth cites the following, for example:

Mr Phipps made a good run down to the Civil Service base, and the ball was got through somehow; but it was objected that the goalkeeper had first been handed over, and the ball afterwards handed through. The captains of the side afterwards met, and at the wish of the captain of the Civil Service team, it was arranged that the disputed goal should be considered to count in favour of the Wanderers who were therefore winners of the match (Field, 24/11/1866, in Booth, 2002, 58).

Booth explains such incidents thus: “[i]t was a time when the result was secondary to the game itself” (2002, 58). This is another common-sense assumption about the amateur „era‟ (i.e., that players played „for fun‟), but we might also wonder about the accuracy of such claims. For, the example Booth cites here could actually be interpreted to suggest quite the reverse – that, in fact, the result was more important than game itself! It certainly begs the question; if the result was „secondary‟, why did captains bother to resolve disputes, such as the one above, after the game?

It is also a little hard to imagine that every „disagreement‟ or „dispute‟ was resolved “immediately” as Lowndes claims above, particularly given the physical nature of the various football games being played at this time. Indeed, it is noteworthy that in Booth‟s example, the disputed matter was resolved after the game. We should also bear in mind that the rules were strongly contested by some of the FA‟s member clubs at their inception and, although the FA rules were shaped by existing codes, they were as „a whole‟ 110 relatively new. As the rules were effectively an amalgamation of various different codes, the process of establishing a “shared understanding” about how the game should be played and the rules be interpreted was in its early stages. As such, it is likely that discussions over interpretation, and perhaps more heated exchanges, took place during games. The practice of using umpires and/or referees was becoming common in the public schools by this time and was also an established practice in games played outside of the schools. It is, then, possible that games played to FA rules were supervised by third parties but that this was yet to be formalised in The Laws. Indeed, as Pickford notes, the lack of reference to umpires or referees in the Football Association rules in its first decade of existence does not necessarily mean that no such individuals were utilised, rather: “it is to be presumed that something was done to decide disputes” (1906c, 1).

The initial 1863 FA code named two offences in The Laws, tripping and hacking. These were the only practices explicitly forbidden in the written code until 1870. Then, players were additionally forbidden from using their “hands to hold or push adversary”, from charging opponents from behind and from carrying or „knocking the ball on‟ (i.e., propelling it with the hand or arm (Green, 1953, 578)) – though there was still no mention of any officials to oversee the implementation of The Laws. It is interesting that, although the nature of these offences seems more likely to have been „intentional‟ than accidental, there were still no prescribed penalties for them. Such penalties were first introduced in the FA code of 1873-4 (Rous & Ford, 1974, 106), when the FA “adopted the principle already in force in the Sheffield Rules, making the offending side forfeit a free kick” (Witty, 1960b, 154). It is perhaps pertinent to remember the need for caution when attempting to attribute particular innovations in the FA laws to one particular source. As we have seen, the public school boys and independent clubs developed various practices in terms of match supervision and the introduction of free kicks and monetary penalties for the wilful infringement of game rules. However, as

111 discussed, the increasing interdependence between the Sheffield Association and the FA as a result of their representative matches does seem to have brought about changes in the FA code based on the Sheffield rules. The most significant of these adaptations concerned the introduction of third parties to oversee games and, in particular, the introduction of penalties for breaking the rules. The Sheffield code of 1870 stipulated:

An umpire shall be appointed by each side at the commencement of the game, to enforce the preceding rules, whose decision on all points during the game shall be final. And they shall be the sole judges of fair and unfair play, and have power to give a penalty for foul play of any kind. Each umpire to be referee in that half of the field nearest the goal defended by the party nominating him (in Rous & Ford, 1974, 27).

Like the Sheffield code, when the FA introduced this „penalty‟ for foul play in 1873-74, a goal could not be scored directly from free kicks. Free kicks were awarded “for unsportsmanlike actions of an intentional nature” (Witty, 1960b, 154). Players whose footwear had protruding nails could be ruled “out of play” by the umpires if appealed to by the captain of the opposite side. They had to remain out of play “so long as the infringement continue[d]” (in Alcock, 1874, 98). The wearing of inappropriate boots was the only offence written into the 1874 FA laws for which a player could be sent off by umpires. Contrary to this, Witty and (1960b, 155) and Thompson (1999, 26) suggest that by 1874 match officials could rule out players persistently infringing the Laws. This instruction is not in the 1874 code which Alcock reproduces (1874, 96-99), but may well have been in the distinct FA Cup competition rules. By 1886, any player with incorrect footwear was “prohibited from taking further part in the game”. Similarly, officials for FA Cup ties were instructed to disqualify any player with bars or studs on their boots which projected more than half an inch, or if they were “conical or pointed” (in Rous and Ford, 1974, 36). The changing regulations on players‟ footwear demonstrate the growing

112 complexity and precision of the Laws. They also reveal an increasing prohibition on practices liable to cause injury (see Elias, 1986a and 1994).

The timing of these innovations (1873-74) may well relate, as Witty (1960c, 175. See also Rous & Ford, 1974, 31) has observed, to the introduction of The FA Challenge Cup in 1871-72, and the concurrent increasing seriousness of competition16. The proposal for a FA „challenge‟ cup competition was made by Alcock in July 1871. As a result, Alcock has often been credited with „inventing‟ the FA Cup17 having modelled it on the intra-school „Cock-House‟ knock-out competition which had been played at Harrow (see, for example, Butler, 1991, 14). As Booth suggests (2002, 109), others present at the meeting when the competition was proposed would also have been familiar with the “competitive principle” of knock-out competitions. For, as Booth (2002, 109) neatly puts it, “the cock-house knock-out device” had been in operation at a number of other schools, including Clifton and Rugby. Likewise, we might find traces of the Sheffield influence, for members of the Sheffield FA had played for a „prize cup‟ since 1867 and, by 1871, the Sheffield- London FA matches had become established fixtures. As Booth asserts, however, “the idea was not novel, but the attempt to apply it on a national scale was” (2002, 111). The FA cup was played to its own set of competition rules, based on those utilised in the Sheffield-FA representative matches. The inaugural competition had only 15 entries and, as a result of byes and exemptions, only four games were actually played in the first round! (See Barber, 1981, 1871-2). As such, the task of finding enough officials to supervise these important matches was probably not too demanding.

The rules included the specification that games should be played between teams of 11- a- side and that the match duration should be 1 ½ hours, both of which were later adopted in the FA Laws (Rous & Ford, 1974, 31). Similarly, the first FA laws stipulating that third parties should be appointed were those specifically governing the FA Cup. In fact, several „innovations‟ regarding The Laws were first included in the Cup rules, and later included in the FA Laws 113 of the Game. The original FA Cup rules regarding match officials required that:

The committee shall appoint two umpires and a referee to act at each of the matches in the Final Ties. Neither the umpires nor the referee shall be members of either of the contending clubs and the decision of the umpires shall be final except in the case of the umpires disagreeing, when an appeal shall be made to the referee, whose decision shall be final (in Witty, 1960d, 182)18.

Unlike the rules specifically regulating the FA Cup, The FA Laws did not include the requirement that umpires be appointed for games until 1877, and the referee was not mentioned in the FA Laws until 1880-81. However, given that reference is made to the ability of umpires to rule players out of the game for wearing inappropriate boots in the 1874 FA code, cited above, (in Alcock, 1874, 96-99) it is apparent that it was expected that umpires would be present to oversee games, and perhaps referees were utilised too. The requirement that match officials should be independent of the contending clubs undermines Lowndes‟s suggestion that rival captains were “usually able to settle [disputes] immediately”. For, had such harmonious conditions prevailed during games, then there would have been no need to introduce independent „third parties‟ to oversee them.

There were few amendments to the FA Laws regarding foul play during the 1870s, and as such they retained a relative lack of complexity. As with the public school rules, the FA code developed “in a more or less haphazard fashion to meet the demands of the game as they arose” (Green, 1953, 557). Gradually, more offences were explicitly prohibited in The Laws19. Witty has identified one consequence of this process, unforeseen by the law-makers. He observed that “the fact of enumerating [offences in The Laws] apparently led some players to believe that anything not specifically forbidden was permitted, and other malpractices were, in consequence, introduced and each, in turn, had to be legislated for” (1960c, 176). Some of the earliest examples of

114 these unintended consequences (Elias, 1978, 146) relate to the use of the „charge‟. In 1870, charging a player from behind had become punishable by a free kick. In 1877, this rule was relaxed, allowing a player to be charged from behind if he was facing “his own goal” (Green, 1953, 578). This „relaxation‟ may well have been introduced because players took advantage of the prohibition on charging from behind by turning their backs on approaching opponents to face their own goal in order to protect the ball or obstruct. However, the addition to the law made in 1877, allowing the charge from behind “evidently led to abuse, for in 1879 it was ruled: „No player shall charge his opponent by leaping on him‟” (Green, 1953, 578).

The „formal‟ introduction of the referee into The Laws in 1880 can be understood in the context of these developments in the Laws of the Game. The referee‟s role was defined for the first time in the 1880 laws as follows:

By mutual consent of the competing clubs in matches, a referee shall be appointed whose duty shall be to decide in all cases of dispute between its umpires. He shall also keep a record of the game and act as timekeeper, and in the event of ungentlemanly behaviour on the part of any of the contestants, the offender or offenders shall, in the presence of the umpires, be cautioned, and in the case of violent conduct, the referee shall have power to rule the offending player or players out of play and order him or them off the ground, transmitting name or names to the committee of the Association under whose rules the game was played and in whom shall be solely vested the right of accepting an apology (in Witty, 1960b, 154)20.

Umpires were positioned on the field of play and referees on the touchline. Throughout the 1880s, players had to make an appeal or „claim‟ to the umpire if they felt an opposition player had infringed The Laws. Each umpire carried a flag, stick or umbrella to be raised if the claim was „allowed‟. If both umpires agreed an infringement had occurred, both raised their sticks, if only one umpire signalled and the referee agreed with the claim, he sounded his whistle. If only one umpire signalled but the referee did not agree with the

115 claim, no whistle was sounded and play continued (Shearman, 1887, 357). For play to be stopped, then, two of the three officials had to agree that an infringement had occurred. The referee was, at this point, the least powerful of the three officials for, as Alcock (1890, 61) reminded his readers: “[i]t cannot be too clearly pointed out too that the referee has no status until the umpires have first given their ruling;” Greater powers were temporarily awarded to the referee in 1881-82, when he was given “the power to award a goal in cases where in his opinion a score had been prevented through the wilful handling by one of the defending side”(Jackson, 1900, 60). This innovation – again designed to counter an intentional infringement of The Laws - was short lived, however, and was repealed at the FA‟s next AGM. The reasons for the repeal are identified by Gibson and Pickford, who suggest that “referees shrunk both from the odium and the ordeal of making presents of goals to visiting teams in the sight and sound and within the touch of a hostile local following” (1906b, 108).

Unfortunately, because there were no FA instructions on „how‟ to officiate, and because there is a lack of contemporary material on officials, very little is known about how they oversaw matches. As such, it is only possible to speculate about the way this system might have worked in practice. Theoretically, the „ideal‟ method of supervision would have been for an umpire to keep up with the play in his own half of the field, for the referee (not, at this time, allowed on the pitch) to move up and down the touchline to be parallel with play, and for the umpire in the other half of the field to position himself as close to the play as possible. Such a system would – in theory - have put officials in the best position to see infringements and to make their decisions. Contemporary paintings, cartoons and sketches often depict an official in the background, apparently keeping up with play (see, for example, Butler (1987, 19), Tyler (1980, 10), Conrad, Sidaway and Wilson (1978, 25) and Signy (1971, 18)). However, given the scope for artistic license, how representative such depictions are must remain open to question.

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We simply do not have the evidence to know whether officials were encouraged or instructed to keep up with play, or, indeed, whether they felt it necessary to do so. Several sources suggests otherwise. Recalling the start of his career as a referee in 1887, Carr (1894a, 203) suggested his decision to quit as a player and become an official was made after noticing his own shortness of breath during games and an “alarming increase in weight”. Such an admission implies that he did not expect to move too far, too fast along the touchline when he became a referee! Indeed, Witty suggests that referees were at this time “seated outside the field” (1960d, 183, my emphasis), so perhaps Carr did not expect to have to move at all. Mason cites a letter from William Pierce Dix defending his refereeing of the Lancashire Cup Final in 1881. Dix had refereed the game from underneath an umbrella, and was criticised for not having followed the play. His defence implies, again, that he did not appear to have moved far: he argued the ground was small, the play was slow and he was “possessed of good sight” (in Mason, 1980, 161). This example is particularly interesting, for Dix appears to have been, in today‟s terms, an „elite level‟ referee. He had refereed the FA Cup Final just a month earlier. Similarly, Pickford recalls a request by “Captain Simpson” to oversee a match at Queen‟s Club “if he might referee from the pavilion” (1906, 19). This request was apparently acceded to, for Pickford notes, “[i]t is on record that he actually controlled the game from that easy but inaccessible position” (1906, 19). A new law in 1888 required some exertion at least, as referees had to enter the field of play for the first time. The referee was required to go onto the pitch in order to restart the game (via what would today be defined as a drop „ball‟21) after “any temporary suspension of play from any cause” if the ball had not gone off the field of play (Rous and Ford, 1974, 37).

In the absence of training and guidance for officials, officiating practice during this period was probably rather „hit and miss‟. Carr‟s description of his own transition from player to referee certainly provides some insight into the lack of structure and regulation around officiating during the period. Like the 117 development of The Laws and other aspects of the game, this process appears to have been fairly haphazard. Whilst Hardaker22 observed in 1977, “[t]he day will never come when a player hangs up his boots for the last time and then, the following week, ... becomes an instant referee” (1977, 207), in the 1880s it seems that this was exactly how players „qualified‟ for the job! Carr23 describes his path to refereeing thus:

I procured one of the little books published by the Association, and set to work to read up the rules. I may here admit, this was the first time I ever had read them, and I believe many good players are in alike state to-day. There was no Referees‟ Association to inquire into a man‟s competence, and early the following week I blossomed into a full-grown referee (1894a, 203).

The Amateur Ethos & The ‘Threat’ of Professionalism In 1880, „violent conduct‟ was named as an offence in The Laws for the first time, and shin-guards were also referred to in the written code24. For Jackson (1900, 58), founder of the Corinthians, “[t]he idea of having to legislate for the repression of ungentlemanly behaviour and violent conduct would have severely shocked the pioneers of the game”, but it is interesting that such provisions were made in the 1880 laws. The mention of „violent conduct‟ came relatively early in association football‟s history; five years prior to the professionalisation of the game and eight years prior to the inception of the Football League. The gradual introduction of penalties for intentional foul play, cited previously, and the formal, explicit prohibition of ungentlemanly conduct in The Laws is indicative of the underlying amateur ethos shared by the game‟s administrators. Whether the early pioneers would have been “shocked” is perhaps open to question, but it is likely that they would have approved of the FA legislators‟ attempts to ensure that ungentlemanly conduct was proscribed.

Dunning identifies components of the amateur ethos as “„fair play‟, voluntary adherence to rules and non-pecuniary involvement” but, according to him,

118 the central component was playing “„for fun‟” (1986a, 214). During the 1880s, this ethos, previously “an amorphous, loosely articulated set of values regarding the functions of sport... began to crystallize as an elaborate and articulate ideology” (1986a, 216). For Dunning, this process was driven by the entry of lower middle- and working-class groups into sports such as football, which had previously been the “preserve of the „public school elite‟” (1986a, 216). As Holt (1989, 100) has observed, however, “[t]he true amateur was an ideal type and the banal realities of play can rarely have taken on such a high moral tone”. Indeed, as Holt goes on to note, the “greatest Victorian amateur of all”, cricketer W.G. Grace, “fell notably short of the ideal” and was “not above hectoring an umpire or deliberately distracting an opponent” (Holt, 1989, 101-102). The introduction of penalties for intentional breaches of The Laws, and of third parties to supervise games, both in the public schools and in the early adult FA games bear testimony to the distinction drawn by Holt between the amateur ideal and how the game was played in practice. From the outset, players seem to have taken the game more „seriously‟ than they were meant to. Yet, despite the gap between reality and the ideal type, the amateur ethos remains a powerful ideology which, although fluid, continues to haunt the administrators of football, a point explored more fully later in this thesis.

As noted, prominent early members of The FA belonged to the public school elite. Key figures, such as Alcock, Marindin, and Clegg played for the leading FA Cup teams in the amateur era (see Barber, 1981) and were „elite‟ referees, refereeing the Cup Finals throughout the 1870s and 1880s25. In this sense, these individuals constituted a relatively powerful network, in position to infuse the Laws of the Game with the amateur ethos. In other words, those who had played the game at the „elite level‟ – at this point, the FA Cup - became responsible for devising its legislation, for overseeing the implementation of The Laws as referees, and, as discussed below, responsible for punishing players and clubs who had breached those laws. Through the

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1870s and 1880s, there was, then, much overlap between those playing, overseeing and administrating the game. In effect, key figures who played the game also devised The Laws and implemented them. As such, one might assume that there was a shared ideology between these groups about how the game should be played. Yet, despite this, the game‟s legislators were never able to ensure that all players accepted their ideology and „played the game‟ in the amateur spirit they intended. The ways in which these power relationships shifted, the changing status of these various groups and, in particular, the implications for understanding the development of refereeing will be explored developmentally throughout this thesis.

The issue of amateurism and professionalism became a problem for the game‟s legislators during the late 1870s and into the 1880s, as discussed in depth by Mason (1980, 69-81). He suggests that there is evidence of players being paid to play from around 1878 (1980, 69). Players were „imported‟ into districts to play in important matches and, as a result, one player might appear for several different clubs in the course of a single cup competition (Mason, 1980, 71). Initially, the issue was dealt with by local FAs. Some, such as Sheffield, forbade players under their jurisdiction from playing for more than one club over the course of a season. The issue of professionalism was widely discussed in the sporting press from around 1883. It was initially addressed by the FA in January 1884, when Preston North End were disqualified from the FA Cup for playing imported players (Mason, 1980, pp72-74 and 80, n24). There was much opposition to the notion that players should be paid to play; for example, the local FAs in Birmingham and Sheffield, Nottingham and Walsall “all passed resolutions opposing any ideas that professionalism should be legalised” (Mason, 1980, 74). But, there were also powerful alliances strongly in favour of legalising it. As a result of The FA‟s unwillingness to accept professionalism, 36 “prominent northern clubs” threatened to leave the FA and form their own British Association (See Mason, 1980, 74 and 81, Appendix 1).

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Those in favour of professionalism eventually won out and The FA legislated to allow it in 1885 (See Mason, 1980, 73-74 and 80 n24-27, for a detailed analysis of this process). In essence, by 1885 members of the game‟s administrative body saw the processes „driving‟ professionalism- such as the burgeoning commercialisation of the game and the increasing popularity and importance of representative football - as processes beyond their control. As The Athletic News Football Annual reflected, even the “pure amateur” JC Clegg, Chairman of the FA Council, had “recognised the utter impossibility of continuing the game solely on amateur lines” (1892, 5). As Mason puts it, The FA accepted the “monster” of professionalism in order to tame it (1980, 75). As a result, players could not be called amateurs if they received any payment other than hotel or travelling expenses. They could only play for one club during a season and, in order to be eligible for cup matches, had to have been resident in a club‟s town, or within six miles of it, for at least two years. Significantly, professionals were not permitted to “sit on any FA committees nor to represent their own or any other club at any meeting of the Football Association” (Mason, 1974, 74). As such, the administration of the game remained in the hands of the amateurs. Evidence of the FA‟s attempts to exert their authority over clubs comes from an 1884 ruling, enabling the FA committee to: call upon the Clubs or individuals charged with offending against the Rules to prove to the satisfaction of the Committee that the offence has not been committed, and failing such satisfactory proof the Clubs or individuals shall be adjudged guilty of the offence… The Committee shall have power to call upon any clubs or players to produce any books, letters or documents of any kind that the Committee may desire (in Green, 1953, 348).

This “autocratic and severe” ruling is, as Green (1953, 348) implies, a policy contrary to the prevailing „legal‟ assumption of „innocent until proven guilty‟26. As Holt concludes, “[w]hereas the Rugby Union authorities made a formal distinction, the FA accepted professionalism in order to isolate it and 121 to control it... The government of the game remained in the hands of upper middle-class amateurs” (Holt, 1989, 106-107). The acceptance of professionalism in football in 1885 coincided with a number of changes relating to match officials, and the FA‟s first efforts to guide officials in their application of The Laws. The transition to professionalism allowed the FA to impose stricter Laws on the game, ostensibly on the grounds that they now had to regulate professionals. These changes, discussed below, can be seen as further evidence of The FA members‟ efforts to maintain the amateur ethos and to protect the „spirit of the game‟ in the face of perceived „abuses‟ from professional players.

The first FA instructions to referees and umpires were made in 1886. A FA sub-committee had been formed in October 1885 to draw up a code of rules for the guidance of umpires and referees. A memorandum was subsequently issued in 1886 containing nine points of instruction and advice (see Green (1953, 73), Witty (1960e, 198), Rous & Ford (1974, 35-37) and Mason (1981, 160)). The memorandum advised umpires and referees on the interpretation of particular points of law. For example, officials were reminded that the ball had to be played in the direction of the opposite goal line at the kick off and so “back-kicking” was prohibited (in Rous and Ford, 1974, 35). The memorandum also established the principle that the whole of the ball must have passed over the whole of the line either for a goal to be awarded or for the ball to be „out of play‟ (Rous and Ford, 1974, 35). Many of the instructions concerned „technical‟ issues such as these.

The 1886 memorandum also outlined the circumstances under which umpires and referees could now intervene without appeal27. As well as disqualifying players wearing incorrect footwear, umpires could also intervene without appeal if free-kicks kick-offs and corner kicks had been taken incorrectly. For most decisions, however, officials could still only intervene if they were appealed to by the captains of the contending teams. As such, the relative

122 levels of tolerance of violence would play a part in whether an appeal was made, as would the „manly‟ reputations and images of the respective sides. The ball was considered to be in play until a decision was given, and the advice contained in the memorandum indicates that delays over decisions may have been commonplace:

Umpires should remember how very important it is ... that their decisions should be given as quickly as possible, and, if a claim is made, and one umpire allows it, the Referee, if he agrees with him, should instantly sound his whistle, without waiting to ascertain the opinion of the other umpire (in Rous & Ford, 1974, 36).

Again, this advice reveals the emergence of a principle which has continued to shape The Laws: avoiding disruptions to the flow of the game. Umpires were reminded that they were “bound to give a decision one way or the other when appealed to” and, in cases of doubt, to “decide in favour of the side so appealed against” (in Green, 1953, 73). Shearman (1887, 357) complained that “so much play is wasted” by delayed decisions. Similarly, Alcock observed that a “good umpire will give his decision promptly and unhesitatingly, and will not, as some of the less experienced sometimes do, argue the point, or assign the reasons which have influenced him in giving his verdict” (1890, 61-62)28.

Changes to the ‘System’ of Officiating The problem of „hesitant‟ umpires and „delayed‟ decisions may explain why this „system‟ of officiating was later altered, shifting the balance of power towards one official. One cause of disputes appears to have been the offside rule and its interpretation. Although the offside law had been in place since 1863 and was described in the memorandum as “plain enough”, its complexities required detailed explanation and instruction (see Rous and Ford, 1974, 35). For Shearman, the “one generally admitted drawback to the game” was the frequency of the disputes which arose “over the questions

123 whether this or that player was „off-side‟” (Shearman, 1887, 355-356). There is a suggestion that, contrary to Green (1953, 559), at this stage, referees were called upon relatively often, and that their decisions were contended:

often as the game is stopped by the referee‟s whistle, often again do the losers or the crowd feel a grievance at a decision ... Some have suggested an alteration of the off-side rule ... almost anything would be an improvement which would put an end to the frequent disputes and to the frequent pauses in the game which occur when a claim is allowed and the whistle sounds (Shearman, 1887, 356).

It is important to note that this example from 1887 is the first we have to date of match officials being „criticised‟. Whilst it is of a general nature, more about the system of officiating than specifically about particular umpires or referees, it is nonetheless extremely significant. For, it represents the genesis of officiating as an „issue‟ or a „problem‟ in the literature on the game. As will become apparent from the remainder of this thesis, this theme increases in significance as the literature on the game develops and, in particular, as the print – and later television - media on football evolves. Once again, this will be addressed in later chapters, but for now we return to the changes to officiating in the 1880s and beyond.

Another reason for the change from umpires to referees may have been the over-involvement of umpires who were appointed by the contending clubs. Umpires had been introduced to settle disputes which could not be resolved by those directly involved. The independent referee, appointed by mutual consent, was expected to settle disputes between umpires still connected with the clubs. Initially, referees were only appointed for cup ties but, by 1890, they were used for all matches. In the 1886 memorandum, umpires were reminded: “it is entirely against the spirit of the rules to give any advice or to make any claim on behalf of either side” (in Green, 1953, 73). However, because umpires were appointed by the contending clubs, it seems likely that,

124 on occasions, their decisions were biased towards their own side. In 1891, „The Free Critic‟29 reflected that under the old „system‟ of officiating, (which was about to be replaced), “it would be quite a wonder for two umpires to agree” (1891, 36). Again, it is worth noting these criticisms as evidence of the subject of officiating being identified as a „problem‟. „The Free Critic‟ also suggested: one-half of the disturbances have been caused by the zealous twelfth man [i.e., the umpire], who was never adverse [sic] to giving the spectators the benefit of his opinion as to the incompetence of the man with the whistle, and there are very few spectators who will not back the decision of their umpire against that of any referee (The Free Critic, 1891, 36-37).

Likewise, Smith‟s retrospective assessment of this system of officiating in 1899 also indicates that officials „arguing the point‟ proved problematic. He suggests that the appointment of umpires by contending teams resulted in bias and frequent disagreements:

the umpires gradually become mere assistants to their own sides, and almost always disagreed... Under these conditions the referee had to be called upon nearly every occasion, the umpires being practically twelfth men, and of no use in aiding him in his decisions (Smith, 1899a, 157).

Probably because of these problems, responsibility for overseeing players‟ adherence to the rules gradually shifted from those directly involved to an independent third party. Though this process was at a relatively early stage in 1886, the memorandum hints at the shift, reminding referees of their responsibilities. They were advised to bear in mind: “that they have great power entrusted to them, and they should fearlessly use such powers” (in Green, 1953, 73). These first instructions to match officials represent an early attempt to „standardise practice‟, at a time when there was no training or qualification for officials. This memorandum was in a sense the first expression by those governing the game of a perceived need to establish „consistency‟ over the interpretation and application of the Laws of the Game. 125

Just as The Laws became increasingly explicit and precise about what was or was not permitted, thus limiting the room for ambiguity and dispute (never removing it completely30), so the memorandum set down on paper the way particular practices should be interpreted.

In 1888, changes were made to The Laws which increased the number of offences for which players could be penalised by a „free kick‟. These were outlined in a single law (Law 16), and now included: encroaching or trespass at the kick-off; improper throw-in; interference with play when offside; handling the ball (except the goalkeeper in his own half of the field of play31); goalkeeper carrying the ball more than two steps; playing the ball a second time before another player plays it at any free-kick, including the kick-off and the corner-kick; tripping, hacking or jumping at a player; using the hands to hold or push an opponent, and; “charging from behind unless such opponent be facing his own goal and, in the opinion of the umpires or referee he, in that position, is wilfully impeding his opponent” (all in Green (1953, 579). See also Rous and Ford (1974, 107)). Again, these developments can be understood in relation to the increasing seriousness of competition. A central aspect of this process was the inception of the Football League in 1888.

The Football League The Football League, set up on the initiative of William McGregor, was intended to give some structure to the organisation of fixtures. The number of football clubs in England had steadily grown from the 1860s and had grown apace through the 1870s and 1880s32, resulting in an increasing number of local matches and cup competitions. Mason‟s (1981, 21-69) detailed empirical research reveals that most developed around pre-existing organisations such as churches, chapels and public houses. Prior to 1888, the burgeoning number of cup games often resulted in the cancellation of previously arranged friendly fixtures, particularly in the north and midlands. Games were also frequently one-sided because, without a league to group teams according to

126 ability, weaker teams would often be pitted against stronger „semi- professional‟ sides (Mason, 1981, 16). The Football League was devised to counter these problems, and clubs were “obliged to play their strongest side” from the outset (Butler, 1987a, 12). Similarly, the FA reorganised the FA Cup in 1888-9 to cope with the expansion in the number of clubs taking part. The competition was divided into two parts, a qualifying round and the „competition proper‟33. The Football League initially constituted 12 clubs, but rapidly expanded34. Like the FA, the League‟s early development was characterised by a lack of cohesion and forward planning. For example, issues such as the points system were still to be decided midway through its inaugural season. The ad hoc approach was also evident in relation to the payment of referees. The fee for refereeing was originally “fixed at £1 1S.[a Guinea], but this was subsequently halved” (Sutcliffe, Brierley & Howarth, 1938, 4).

The years immediately following the League‟s inception saw important changes to the duties and organisation of match officials. Indeed, when the Football League issued its first official rules in 1889, the appointment of officials became more clearly regulated. Significantly, all officials were to be appointed by the Football League management committee35, not the contending clubs. The first League list of officials was also established. Officials were nominated to the list by the clubs, and referees not included were not permitted to officiate league games (Sutcliffe, Brierley & Howarth, 1938, 4-5). The FA Council similarly “undertook to supply the referees and umpires for all Cup ties in the competition proper”, a change seen by Gibson and Pickford as removing any “idea of having conferred a privilege on the referee by submitting his name for the match” (1906b, 107).

During the 1889-90 season, the number and nature of offences for which referees could intervene without appeal significantly increased. Though umpires were still on the field of play, referees now had the power “to stop

127 the game when they considered circumstances warranted it” (Green, 1953, 559). They could award free kicks without appeal when “the conduct of a player [was] dangerous, or likely to prove dangerous”. Referees could also, without appeal, send off players “guilty of ungentlemanly conduct” (Green, 1953, 579). Some of the reasons for this shift in responsibility have been explored previously, but Gibson and Pickford identify a further possible cause. They suggest that “by an astute reticence in appealing teams gained an advantage that a strict regard to the laws would have been denied them” (1906b, 107). In other words, fouled players did not appeal for play to be stopped in order to gain an advantage. Without more evidence, it is difficult to envisage how this advantage might have arisen. Perhaps players fouled their opponents and - expecting an appeal and the officials‟ intervention - „stopped‟ playing, whilst the side fouled against took advantage of this momentary pause and carried on. At this point, it should be remembered that the evidence on the way games were played during this period is so scant that speculating upon potential scenarios, such as that above, is all that is possible. Similarly the suggestion that players took advantage of officials‟ inability to intervene unless appealed to does not, to my knowledge, appear elsewhere in the literature. Any conclusions drawn from it must, then, remain speculative, but it is an issue which merits further investigation. If Gibson and Pickford‟s assessment is accurate, then this practice is likely to have been viewed as „against the spirit of The Laws‟ by the FA legislators. In other words, when The Laws were framed, the game‟s legislators had not intended that players would gain an advantage by not appealing. The principle framing this change to The Laws came „full circle‟ with the introduction of the advantage clause in 1903 (Rous & Ford, 1974, 52), allowing referees not to intervene if, by stopping the game, the offending side would gain an advantage.

Gibson and Pickford‟s suggestion that players sometimes exploited the officials‟ inability to intervene is another indication that, rather than being a modern phenomenon, elements of „unsporting conduct‟ and the „football

128 subculture‟ were evident relatively early in football‟s history. In fact, it seems that the „football subculture‟, within which players were (and are) prepared to circumvent The Laws in order to gain an advantage (Colwell and Murphy, 2000) was beyond the „embryonic‟ stage and was fairly well established by the 1890s. Alcock (1890), secretary of the FA since 1870, also perceived an increase in “[t]ricky tactics” and “questionable practices” during this period. Like many commentators on the game (see for example, Smith (1899b, 174-180 and 184), Oakley (1899b, 146-7), Lewis (1906, 263) and Witty (1960d, 183)), Alcock saw the professional – “northern”- players as the main perpetrators of such tactics. He observed:

of late, particularly among northern players, there has been a growing tendency to stoop to trip, or to take other unfair advantages which, even if they do not actually come within the scope of the law, should be checked with a very high hand (Alcock, 1890, 61).

As we have seen, an analysis of The Laws reveals that penalties for „intentional‟ infringements had gradually been incorporated prior to the professional era. As such, care must be taken when attributing law changes to the introduction of professionalism. However, the expansion of the FA Cup and the inception of the Football League meant that representative matches became characterised by an increasing seriousness. By 1891 there were about 1000 paid players in England. Their “chief aim and purpose was to win matches” which, for Rous and Ford, “meant, on occasion, the prevention of goals by fair means or foul” (1974, 40). Coupled with this, as Alcock hints above, The Laws were still very much under development, and many practices were not specifically covered within the “scope of the law”. Witty‟s analysis of the development of the public school games, noted previously, that the “laws governing play came out of the actual playing of the game” (1960a, 139) also holds good for the FA code. As perceived „unfair practices‟ were identified, so legislation was introduced to combat them.

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Similarly, the referee‟s duties and powers were still being „tried and tested‟ at this stage. Whilst the 1889-90 rule changes gave them increased powers, referees were still positioned off the field of play and still reliant upon the agreement of umpires for some decisions. Again, there are indications that officials‟ decisions were not always willingly accepted. Alcock argued; “It ought to be a cardinal sin to interfere in any way with the officials”, that “[t]he very fact of their appointment ... ought to ensure that they are treated with respect” and that, “the decision of a referee should be, under any circumstances, accepted without a question” (1890, 61-62). This vision of how officials „ought‟ to be treated reveals the underlying amateur ideology guiding the FA‟s policy. The fact that Alcock had to „spell it out‟ also indicates that that vision was not always shared by players. Staunch amateurs, such as Smith (1899b, 184) and Oakley (1899b, 151-2)36, also counselled players on how they „should‟ play the game. Oakley in particular stressed the need for players to consider the “[l]arger issues... at stake than the mere winning of one match”, arguing that “the future of football lies in the hands of its players, and suffers or is benefited by the tactics they adopt” (1899b, 151). The responsibility for safeguarding what Oakley saw as the “good interests of the game” lay, for him, in the hands of team captains:

It is... of the utmost importance that a captain should not indulge in any tricks that can be called into question, and that he should at the same time be on the look-out to reprove anyone on his side who may show an inclination to practise them (1899b, 151).

The Introduction of the Referee as ‘the Sole Arbiter of Disputes’ The increased powers afforded to referees in the 1889-90 season “were soon seen not to be sufficient to prevent certain players from attempting to take unfair advantage” (Rous & Ford, 1974, 40). In 1891 the FA made the change to The Laws which brought referees onto the field of play and replaced umpires with linesmen. The changes made in 1891 established the most significant

130 principles and practices governing referees‟ duties and responsibilities which remain in place in the contemporary game. In full, the new law 12 read:

A referee shall be appointed, whose duties shall be to enforce the rules and decide all disputed points. He shall also keep a record of the game, and act as timekeeper; and, in the event of any ungentlemanly behaviour on the part of any of the contestants, the offender or offenders shall be cautioned, and if the offence is repeated or, in case of violent conduct, without any previous caution, the referee shall have power to rule the offending player or players out of play, and shall transmit the name or names of such player or players to his or their (National) Association, in whom shall be solely vested the right of accepting an apology. The referee shall have power to terminate the game whenever, by reason of darkness, interference by spectators, or other cause, he shall think fit, and he shall report the same to the Association under whose jurisdiction the match was played, who shall have full power to deal with the matter. Two linesmen shall be appointed, whose duty (SUBJECT TO THE DECISION OF THE REFEREE) shall be to decide when the ball is out of play, and which side is entitled to the corner-flag kick, goal-kick, or throw in. Any undue interference by a linesman shall be reported by the referee to the National Association to which the linesman belongs, who shall deal with the matter in such a manner as they may deem necessary. The referee shall have power to award a free kick without any appeal in any case where he thinks that the conduct of a player is dangerous, or likely to prove dangerous, but not sufficiently so as to justify him in putting in force the greater powers vested in him as above” (in „The Free Critic‟, 1891, 38- 39). See also Rous and Ford (1974, 39-43).

Again, we have little information about „who‟ became referees and linesmen; as Thompson puts it, there “was no real pattern to the transition” (1999, 39) between the old system and the new. As Thompson suggests, it is likely that some umpires became linesmen and some became referees (1999, 39). Whether linesmen also refereed, or vice versa, is another aspect of the game‟s history about which we have frustratingly little evidence, although at least one source indicates that those „running the line‟ were not necessarily able to referee. As late as 1901, Lewis complained that there was “a very large

131 number of neutral linesmen registered with the Football League who [had] not taken the trouble to qualify as referees” (Lewis, 1901, 43). This is an interesting situation, for as Lewis (1901, 43) observes, in the event of a referee not arriving for the game, the linesman was supposed to take over.

The instruction to referees to report any “undue interference” by linesmen was presumably included as an attempt to militate against the over- involvement of individuals appointed by competing clubs. After the inaugural season of the new system, the FA issued an additional memorandum to officials, that: “Linesmen, where neutral, must call the attention of the referee to rough play or ungentlemanly conduct” (Anon, The Athletic News Football Annual, 1892, 14). This is an early indication that the „power sharing‟ between the three officials was problematic, suggesting that sometimes linesmen did not intervene enough, sometimes they intervened too much. Once again, we have little information about „how‟ referees officiated during games.

The limited evidence we have from this period suggests officials were not always as fit as they might have been and, as such, probably did not always keep up with play, which might have made accurate decision making relatively difficult. In 1894, for example, „Rob Roy‟ complained of fouls going unnoticed “while the panting, obese official trots up field” (1894, 17). By 1896 the Referees’ Chart was emphasising the “necessity for the Referee [to] follow... the ball closely up and down the ground and trying to get a side view whenever he thinks a shot is about to be put in, or there is a scrimmage in front of the goal” (1896, 7). Captain Simpson, who had refereed from the pavilion earlier in the century, is certainly more likely to have exerted himself when he took charge of the 1896 Cup Final – although we of course actually know very little about how closely recommendations in the Referee’s Chart were followed. Again, there is some evidence that they were not always strictly adhered to. Smith (1899, 160), for example, complained that referees

132 should “remember to run about”. He argued that this was something “often overlooked” by referees who were:

apparently of the opinion they can do their work perfectly well by strolling about the ground and giving decisions on matters that take place perhaps fifty yards away from them. This is, of course, absurd; a referee should run about nearly as much as a player (Smith, 1899, 160)

In 1891, the penalty kick (and with it the penalty area) and goal nets were also introduced and, as Green puts it, “a new epoch in the game had arrived” (Green, 1953, 172). Players could, however, still appeal for the referee‟s intervention in 1891. This practice was abolished in The Laws, if not in practice, in 1895-6 (Rous & Ford, 1974, 37)37. The penalty kick was introduced to curtail an apparently common practice of defenders deliberately fouling to prevent goals being scored. For Bentley, „The Free Critic‟, it had become “very exasperating to see a forward tripped up right in the goal mouth, or to witness a back fisting out the ball just as it [was] passing under the bar”. In Bentley‟s opinion, there had been “so many flagrant cases of backs stopping the ball when the goalkeeper had no earthly chance of doing so” that this necessitated a “more severe penalty” (The Free Critic, 1891, 35). Gibson and Pickford note that the introduction of the penalty kick was, “made the text for a vast numbers of sermons on the veils of professional football”. However, as discussed earlier in this chapter, and as Gibson and Pickford suggest, the saving of “a goal at any cost “ was a practice which “amateurs as well as professionals” indulged in (1906b, 108). As Bentley imagined how “peculiar” it would be to see penalty kicks taken, he also predicted “the effect of the rule will be that very few players will incur the penalty, and this will do away with a large amount of unpleasantness” (The Free Critic, 1891, 36). This belief that stricter legislation would be sufficient to quell the developing „soccer subculture‟ of „winning at all costs‟ seems, with the benefit of hindsight, a somewhat rash prediction. Despite the acknowledgement that the penalty had been introduced to combat the illegal goal-saving efforts of both amateurs and

133 professionals, its „failure‟ to erode such practices was laid firmly at the door of the professionals. For, whilst the:

„better class‟ of players... felt it somewhat of an insult to their dignity to have to play under such a rule... [and] held it to be a blot on the escutcheons of their clubs to have a penalty kick awarded against them... the manner in which many of the paid experts viewed it soon robbed it of its sting. Their policy was to win if possible by fair methods; but when it came to losing, rules were looked at as things to be broken, and the referee to be denied just as far as it was safe to do this (Gibson & Pickford, 1906b, 108-109).

The almost immediate amendments to the penalty kick Law underscores the responsive nature of the FA legislators. By the 1892-93 season, there were two additions to the Law, forbidding the penalty taker from playing the ball a second time “until it has been played by another player”, and allowing the “time of play” to “be extended to admit of the penalty kick being taken” (Anon, The Athletic News Football Annual, 1892, 13. See also Rous and Ford, 1974, 44). The former change was introduced to prevent players from dribbling the ball into the net – something, again, which was not specifically forbidden in the original wording of the law. The ruling that play should be extended to allow penalties to be taken was introduced in reaction to an incident in a league game between Stoke and Aston Villa in 189138. Villa were leading 1-0 in the final minutes of the game when Stoke were awarded a penalty. Prior to the kick being taken, the Aston Villa goalkeeper kicked the ball out of the ground and, by the time it was retrieved, full time had elapsed and the referee had ended the game39 (See Thompson, 1999, 29).

Whilst Bentley‟s anticipation of the effect of the penalty kick was some way off the mark, his view of the new refereeing system was more prescient. Before a ball had been kicked under the new system, Bentley articulated the kind of criticism which has since characterised much analysis of refereeing. He predicted the new system would be “found to work well, always provided

134 that the referee is a man who knows his business”, but added the small caveat that “with an incompetent man at the helm it will be something dreadful, for he has the whole game in his own hands” (The Free Critic, 1891, 36). The ways in which this focus on the referee manifested itself are addressed in the next chapter. The training, organisation and instruction of referees are considered, along with issues concerning their status.

1 See for example, Witty (1960a, 1960b); Green (1960c); Rous and Ford (1974) 2 Though there were no written rules prior to 1845, the evidence indicates that picking up the ball and running with it was prohibited in Rugby school football in the early 19th century. The suggestion that the origins of this practice can be attributed to the actions of one individual, William Webb Ellis, in 1823 is only supported by “slight evidence” (Arlott, 1977, 779; see also Dunning & Sheard, 1979, 60-62). 3 Malden was present at the meeting to establish the 1848 rules. His recollections of the early Cambridge games were made some fifty years later, in a letter dated 8th October 1897. 4 The way the various public schools were represented on these committees raises some questions about the status rivalry and hierarchy between schools which Dunning and Sheard identify (1979, 102-104). They identify evidence which indicates that relatively high status schools included: Eton, Harrow, Winchester, Westminster and Charterhouse, all of which were recognised as public schools by Harrow pupils in the 1840s. Shrewsbury was excluded from this group, a situation which seems to have endured for some years. In 1866, Shrewsbury was not regarded as a public school by Westminster pupils, but Eton, Harrow, Rugby, Westminster and Winchester were (in Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 102). It is interesting to note, then, that Shrewsbury- apparently regarded as a relatively low status institution– was well represented on the committees establishing compromise rules in 1848, 1856 and 1863. Shrewsbury had 2 representatives on the first 2 committees – i.e., equal representation with the „high status‟ schools- and 1 on the latter. The Shrewsbury rules, along with the Harrow and Eton codes, formed the basis for the compromise code established at Cambridge. This suggests that the status hierarchy identified by Dunning and Sheard was not as pronounced between „old boys‟ at Cambridge as it was between pupils at the schools. Questions are also raised about the extent of conflict and status rivalry between Eton and Rugby identified by Dunning and Sheard. In particular, their suggestion that “the main axis of tension” (1979, 104) was between Eton and Rugby old boys seems to be at least partly reliant on a misinterpretation of the evidence. They suggest that “in an account of a meeting to determine common rules held at Trinity College in [1848], the author, HC Malden, noted how „the Eton men howled at the Rugby men for handling the ball‟”. For Dunning and Sheard, “[t]his suggests that the main axis of tension in Cambridge football at that stage was between Old Etonian and Old Rugbeian undergraduates”(1979, 104). However, what Malden actually wrote was: “an attempt was made to get up some football in preference to the hockey then in vogue [in 1848]. But the result was dire confusion, as every man played the rules he had been accustomed to at his public school. I remember how the Eton men howled at the Rugby men for handling the ball. So it was agreed that two men should be chosen to represent each of the public schools, and two, who were not public school men, for the „Varsity” (quoted in Green, 1953, 15-16). Clearly, Malden was not suggesting that such „howls‟ occurred during the meeting as Dunning and Sheard seem to imply. Had they, this could indeed be interpreted as evidence of Etonian derision for the Rugby Old boys and, as such, a potential cause of conflict. But Malden was describing the attempts to play football that preceded the meeting. As such, these howls may well have been less indicative of „conflict‟ and more an indication of Old Etonians‟ confusion, surprise, or even laughter at what was probably a completely new sight to them: players picking up the ball and running with it in the middle of a game of football, something which was forbidden by the Eton code. Malden‟s recollection of the response to these confused early games would seem to suggest a more harmonious relationship existed between and Old Etonians and Rugbeians in particular, and between other „old boys‟ more generally. For, the process of coming to an agreed compromise code seems to have been carried out democratically, with equal representation for each of the schools on the 1848 committee. Indeed, according to Malden, the two „independent‟ varsity members – non public school boys - were in a relatively powerful position, having “carried or struck out a rule when the voting was equal” (in Green, 1953, 16). The Rugby form of football was probably excluded, as Dunning and Sheard suggest, because Rugbeians were isolated proponents of the Rugby style game at Cambridge at that time (1979, 104). In this sense, it seems that the decision to establish a committee was motivated more by pragmatic concerns than by concerns over status, and the „exclusion‟ of Rugby style football was a result of this 135

process. This aspect of football‟s development, and in particular the split between what became the football and rugby codes would seem to merit further investigation which is, unfortunately, beyond the scope of this thesis. 5 F.G. Sykes was a member of the committee to decide the 1856 rules. He wrote to the Eagle on 26th May 1897 describing the football played at Cambridge and enclosing a copy of the 1856 rules which was printed in the Eagle, a reference which Graham Curry kindly forwarded to me. 6 The Committee consisted of two representatives each from Eton, Harrow and Rugby and one each from Shrewsbury, Marlborough and Westminster (Witty, 1960a, 146). The Shrewsbury representative chaired the committee (Green, 1953, 18). 7 In comparison: The Hockey Association was established in 1886 (Arlott, 1977, 427); The English Lacrosse Association in 1881 (Arlott, 1977, 523). 8 For a detailed analysis of the formation of the FA see: Shearman, 1887, 275-77; Oakley, 1899, 85-91; Green, 1953, 19-33; 1956, 29-37; and 1960c, 47-54; Witty, 1960a, 142-146 and 1960b, 157-152; Dunning and Sheard, 1979, 108-111; and Harvey; 2001, 63-71. 9 Arlott (1977, 295) suggests that “there is an element of confusion” about the process by which the Cambridge rules came to be considered and how Laws IX and X were subsequently expunged from the FA laws. In fact, Green (1953, 27-31 and 1960c, 52-54) provides some insight via a detailed report of the minutes of the fifth FA meeting when the Cambridge rules were put forward, and Dunning and Sheard (1979, 108-109) have also provided some analysis of this process. Harvey (2001, 64-69) has recently subjected the minutes of these meetings to more detailed scrutiny and assesses the change in emphasis from an all-embracing code to one which favoured the dribbling game as something of a „coup‟ (2001, 68). He notes that members had initially voted narrowly against outlawing hacking and running with the ball, but that the result of this vote was omitted from the FA minutes and at the next meeting the issue was addressed again and the resolution passed. Having „counted up‟ the attendees of the early FA meetings, he argues that the passing of the resolution to expunge Laws IX and X happened to occur at a meeting from which many previous supporters of the rugby code were absent (2001, 68). As such, he suggests that those in favour of a non-carrying, non-hacking code “took advantage of the absence of Rugby‟s supporters to bulldoze hacking and running with the ball out of the Association” (2001, 68). 10 See Green (1953, 36-38), Witty (1960b, 148-150) and Rous and Ford (1974, 22-30) for the 1863 rules, comparisons with earlier drafts and later versions of the LOTG. Readers of the latter should, however, beware of a confusing error in the Rous and Ford text. The authors, as Davies (1975, 198) notes, claim to include a photocopy of the original FA code of December 1863 (pp 32-33) and to reproduce the same code in their text (pp. 22-23), but there are a number of discrepancies between the two versions. The mistake is not in Rous & Ford‟s detailing of the December 1863 FA code (pp. 22-23), as Davies (1975, 198) suggests: rather, the photocopied laws (pp. 32-33) are actually an earlier FA draft, containing rules allowing tripping, hacking and running with the ball. 11 The 1863 offside rule read: “When a player has kicked the ball any one of the same side who is nearer to the opponents goal-line is out of play and may not touch the ball himself nor in any way whatever prevent any other player from doing so until the ball has been played, but no player is out of play when the ball is kicked from behind the goal-line” (in Witty, 1960b, 149). This rule essentially meant that players could not advance up the pitch by passing the ball forward to a member of their own team, which, as Shearman puts it, meant that “individual dribbling was the only thing that could pay” (1887, 336). This prohibitive rule was relaxed 1866. Then, players remained onside (and able to play the ball) when it was played forward if there were “at least three opponents nearer their own goal-line” when the ball was played. The 1863 code was similar to that utilised in the Rugby school game, the 1866 rule change mirrored that used in the Eton Field game of 1847 (rule 29, offside was known as „sneaking‟). See Witty (1960a, 141-142) for the offside rules utilised in various the school games and Green (1953 573- 577) for the evolution of the FA offside laws. 12 Another aspect of Harvey‟s critique of the traditional understanding of football‟s development concerns what he sees as the lack of attention paid to the football played in Sheffield. He writes: “I am puzzled that more attention has not [been] given to Sheffield‟s role in the evolution of football… To an extent, the failure of historians to recognize [Sheffield‟s influence] stems from the very poor and misleading example set by the early writers on the game. In the 1890s [FA] officials ... produced articles on the early history of the FA which barely mentioned Sheffield” (Harvey, 2001, 80). However, “to an extent” it might be said that Harvey himself sets a rather “poor and misleading example” by ignoring what previous football historians have said about the significance of Sheffield football. Harvey‟s puzzlement might have been avoided had he familiarised himself with more of the historical literature on football, a recommendation also made by Dunning (2001, 90) and Curry (2002, 2). As well as those sources cited by Dunning (2001, 90), a number of authors have noted Sheffield‟s influence. In 1887, Shearman observed that in the 1870s “London, Sheffield, and the Universities were the only important centres of activities in the game” (Shearman, 1887, 358). Green identified one of the most important 136

factors in the early life of the FA as: “The enrolment of the Sheffield Association with the FA and the eventual acceptance by Sheffield of the FA laws… This was a tremendous feather in the FA‟s cap, for Sheffield – one of the earliest centres of football- now added their voice to the increasing power of the central authority of the game. The value of Chesterman‟s original approach to the FA and the establishment of London-Sheffield matches can be seen to the full in this happy event” (Green, 1960c, 57). Like Witty (1960b), Rous and Ford (1979, 24- 28) offer a detailed comparison of the FA and Sheffield laws in order to explore the differences and similarities between them. As well as reading more widely, Harvey should perhaps have read and reviewed the sources he has actually consulted a little more carefully. As well as misquoting what others have said (see Dunning (2001, 90) and Dunning and Curry (2002, 200-201)), he appears to have engaged in some rather selective reading. In short, Harvey has ignored examples: (i) where other writers have credited the Sheffield influence on the FA code and the general development of the Association Football, and (ii) where caveats have been placed around claims of the public school influence on the Sheffield rules. For example, in terms of the lack of attention paid to Sheffield, whilst Harvey (2001, 75) references Witty, he somehow manages to miss his particularly unequivocal statement that “any study of the development of the current laws of the game would be quite incomplete without giving due regard to the many points incorporated in the Sheffield Rules of 1870” (1960b, 152). Similarly, Harvey notes that “it has been maintained that the laws of Sheffield FC were derived from the public schools, either via masters at the Collegiate or from the players themselves,” but that “there is no evidence for this” (Harvey, 2001, 59). Harvey has since stressed that his “key point” is “that there is no reason for crediting the initial code of the club to the public schools” (Harvey, 2002, 195). Again, whilst he references one of the more important sources on football in Sheffield – namely, Young‟s Football in Sheffield - Harvey conveniently ignores Young‟s observation that “[I]t should, however, be made clear that football in Sheffield did not directly derive from public schoolboys, to whom something, but not all, was due” (1962, 17n). Harvey suggests that “unless it was cognisance of some particular point, I passed over Young‟s views in silence” (Harvey, 2002, 196). Perhaps this particular point was not taken into account of because it undermined the originality of Harvey‟s claims. Whatever the reason, Harvey‟s treatment of the existing literature – whether ignoring it, or misrepresenting it - undermines the credibility of his otherwise extensive and significant research. Harvey seems at pains to stress the importance of non public school football, and in a similar vein argues that “in many ways it was the rules created by Sheffield that influenced the FA rather than vice versa” (2001, 75). However, because the development of the FA code was a complex, long term process of adaptation influenced by many different games it is difficult to concur with this claim. Certainly, some of the practices used in the Sheffield code were taken up by the FA. The cross-bar replaced the tape in 1875 – something which Chesterman had suggested in his first contact with the FA back in 1863. And, as noted, the introduction of the free kick for foul play into the FA code in 1871 was certainly borrowed from the Sheffield code (see Farnsworth, 1982, 2). But other aspects of the Sheffield rules were never adopted – such as the Rouge, a method of scoring which had been “a practice peculiar to Eton” Curry (2002, 4). At a meeting with the FA on February 12th 1867, Chesterman proposed that the FA introduce this method of scoring into their rules. This motion was not carried (Young, 1962, 23). Similarly, for all but one season, (1865-6) Sheffield played with no offside rule – something which the FA code never embodied. It is rather ironic, and indeed erroneous, that Harvey should claim that “the Sheffield offside law [used in 1865-66] was the same as that which came to be adopted by the FA circa 1870 and is still in use today, simply requiring one outfield player between the attacker and the goal when the pass is played” (Harvey 2001, 76). Again, Chesterman proposed that the FA should adopt the Sheffield version of offside at the 1867 meeting, but it was not accepted (Young, 1962, 24). The FA had always played with an offside rule, as detailed in endnote no. 7, above. The FA code in 1870 did not, as Harvey suggests, require one outfield player to play the opposition onside. It specified that for a player to be onside, there had to be three opponents between himself and his opponents‟ goal line. Indeed, this requirement applied from 1866 to 1925! And, in 1925 it was „relaxed‟ to two players. In other words, The FA offside law has always required there to be at least two opposition players (whether outfield players or one outfield player and the goalkeeper) and has never permitted a player to be onside with only one opposition player between himself and the goal line. Other aspects of the FA rules appear to have been a result of a blend or compromise of the two codes, a process which was aided by the representative matches played between the FA and Sheffield during the period. For example, the Sheffield code introduced the principle that the ball should be put back into play by the side opposite to that which had kicked it out. The FA code had stipulated that the first player to touch the ball could throw it or kick it back into play at right angles to the pitch. The FA adopted the Sheffield principle that the opposition should put the ball back into play, but for several years maintained that it should be put in at a right angle. The FA finally made the „concession‟ to the Sheffield rules in 1877, when a uniform code was agreed. Similarly, the forerunner of the was in use in the Sheffield code by 1870. However, the FA corner kick was an adaptation of the Sheffield rule, not strictly an “innovation introduced by the 137

FA on Sheffield‟s initiative” as Harvey ( 2001, 76) describes it. See Green (1953, 587-588), Witty (1960b, 149), Young (1962, 27) and Rous and Ford (1974, 26) for details. Whilst Harvey (2001 and 2002), Dunning (2001), Curry (2002) and Dunning and Curry (2002) have begun to assess the various influences on the Sheffield Rules, this process is in its early stages and much research remains to be done. 13 The rule changes resulting from this were: a standard size for the ball to be used; crossbars became obligatory and tapes were abolished; the touch lines had to be clearly marked; charging from behind was permitted only when the player charged was wilfully impeding an opponent; the words „ungentlemanly conduct‟ were omitted; players had to use both hands to take throw ins and the ball had to be thrown over the head (in Witty, 1960b, 157). This latter amendment was made because players had been throwing the ball into play with one hand and “hurling the ball a very long way, which militated against good play‟” (Witty, 1960b, 157). 14 The process of clarifying The Laws was deemed necessary again almost 60 years after Rous had rewritten them. Again, the numerous clauses and IFAB „add ons‟ since 1938 had “been generally tacked on to the main Laws, at times confusing the issue as much as clarifying it” („Rewriting The Laws of the Game‟ in FIFA magazine, June 1997).. In 1997, the process was overseen by a FIFA committee, rather than the FA, although the then FA Director of Refereeing was a member of the team which rewrote The Laws. The redrafted laws were published in July 1997. 15 See for example: Jackson (1900, 341-2), Green (1953, 558), Riesman and Denney (1954, 226), Rous and Ford (1974, 38), Mason (1981, 208), Wagg (1984, 9), Hay (1999) and Booth (2002, 58) 16 See Dunning (1986a) for a full discussion of this concept. 17 Whilst at first sight these distinctions might seem pedantic, from a sociological point of view it is important to question the attribution of particular innovations in football‟s development – or any other social process- to specific individuals. As Dunning and Sheard (1979, 60-62) demonstrate in their debunking of the „Webb-Ellis- invented- rugby‟ myth, such „reductionist‟ thinking tends to imply that social developments result from the ideas and actions of „great‟ individuals‟. The result of this kind of thinking is that: “our individualistic values tend to blur the perception of social structure and social process” (1979, 61). As a consequence, we are left with a “notion of the historical process as a structureless sequence of events” (1979, 61). Our task as sociologists should, then, be to avoid and challenge the type of ideology underpinning such „reductionist origin myths‟, in order to achieve more accurate representations of „how things have come to be‟. Football, rugby and, in this example, the FA cup, are “collective invention[s] and not the invention[s] of single individuals, [they are] institution[s] which emerged over several decades as part of ... unintended social process involving the interactions of numerous interdependent individuals” (1979, 62).. They are in figurational terms “men-made, rather than man-made” (1979, 62) 18 Given the stipulations that (a) match officials should be appointed and (b) they should be neutral for the FA Cup, the notion that third parties supervising games become more significant relative to the increasing seriousness of competition finds some support here. It is interesting to compare this development with the situation in cricket. An „unofficial‟ County Championship had been played since 1865 (made official in 1890), but it wasn‟t until 1883 that the requirement that umpires for all County matches were neutral (Golesworthy, 1962, 63 and 191). 19 A full review of law changes is beyond the scope of this thesis. Relevant changes are discussed, but see Rous and Ford (1974) for a comprehensive exploration and Green (1953, 557- 577) for an abridged review. 20 It was not until 1922 that the names of players cautioned (i.e. in contemporary terms, yellow carded) had to be reported to the local associations (S&DRA minutes, 1 /9/ 1922). 21 Until 1914, this type of restart involved referees “throwing [the ball] hard on the ground”. This was amended in 1914, when referees were directed to simply “drop the ball”, and players had to wait until the ball had touched the ground before playing it (See Rous and Ford, 1974, 52) . 22 Alan Hardaker was the fourth Secretary of the Football League, from 1957-1977, and was its Chief Executive from 1977. 23 Carr was a Football League referee in the 1890s, through to the 1900s and was Assistant Hon. Sec. Of the Referees‟ Association (the London based organisation set up in 1893) (See list of council members, The Referees’ Association Chart, 1896). 24 Shin Guards had existed since at least 1874, when they were registered by former Nottingham Forest and International player, S W Widdowson (The Athletic News Football Annual 1906-1907, 13). 25 C.W. Alcock, secretary (1870-95) and Vice President of the FA (1896-1907) captained the Wanderers in the first Cup Final in 1872. He umpired the first international between England and Scotland in 1872, captained England against Scotland in 1875 and refereed the FA Cup Final a week later (Butler, 1991, 22). He also refereed the 1879 Final. J.C. Clegg, a Sheffield based solicitor described by The Athletic News Football Annual as “the best referee in England” (1892, 5), played in the inaugural international between England and Scotland in 1872, became FA chairman (in 1889) and FA president (1923-37). He refereed 138

the finals of 1882 and 1892. Sir F. A. Marindin founded and played for the , including in two cup finals, and the Old Etonians. He was FA president (1874-1890), during which time he refereed 9 FA Cup Finals, in 1880 and from 1884-1890. 26 In 1953, Green confidently assessed the fact that the FA had “never lost an action brought against it in the laws courts” as evidence of “the sound and fair manner in which the national body has meted out justice” (1953, 348). In 1972, a decision of the FA Disciplinary Committee was overturned for the first time in a civil court (See The Times, 21st October, 1972). 27 A similar change was made to the rugby union laws in 1893 (Sheard, 1972, 243) and to the rules of Hockey in 1900 (Arlott, 1977, 427). 28 See also Mason (1980, 210) for discussion of the problem of prolonged discussions between officials. 29 „The Free Critic‟ was the nom de plume used by J.J. Bentley. Bentley played for Turton in the 1870s and 1880s, and represented the club on the Lancashire FA. He became secretary of Bolton Wanderers in 1885 and a member of the Lancashire FA committee in 1886. He became an FA Councillor in 1888 and President of the Football League from 1893-1910. He wrote for the Athletic News from the 1880s, and was its editor from 1892-1900 (all from Mason, 1981, 191). 30 Laws can never encompass the complexities of all they are intended to regulate and, by their very nature, always have to be interpreted. Some aspects of this interpretation are more straightforward or clear-cut than others. In these instances, there is little room for ambiguity about how a law should be interpreted. However, other aspects of The Laws may regulate practices which are less clear-cut: in other words there are „grey areas‟. In these instances, there is more room for differences of opinion over how a law should be interpreted, there is more ambiguity, and more room for dispute about the „correct‟ interpretation of a law. These issues are more fully explored later in this thesis. 31 Goalkeepers were allowed to handle the ball in their own half of the field up until 1913. From 1913, they were limited to handling the ball within the penalty area. 32 The Lancashire Football Association was formed by 30 clubs in 1878, had 62 member clubs by 1882 and 114 by 1886. Northumberland and Durham Football Association had just 3 clubs affiliated in 1879 which increased to 25 by 1880-1. There were 37 clubs playing regularly in Sheffield by 1873, by the end of the decade Sheffield FA had 40 clubs affiliated with 5000 players. The Birmingham Association had 52 clubs in membership by 1882 whilst the Nottinghamshire FA had 1630 registered players at 36 clubs in 1885 (all from Mason, 1981, 31. See also Walvin, 2001, 33-37). The FA Cup rapidly expanded from 15 entries in its inaugural year, increasing, for example, to 32 entries in 1876, 43 in 1879 and 54 in 1880 (See Butler, 1991, 21). In 1867 the Football Association had 10 clubs affiliated to it; by 1871 it had 50, by 1888, 1000 and by 1905, 10000 (William Pickford, cited by Mason, 1981, 31). Butler provides a useful comparison between the number of amateur and professional clubs in 1910: there were 12,000 amateur clubs with 300, 000 players and 400 professional clubs with 6000 players (1991, 45). For more details on the expansion in the number of football clubs and for a discussion about why some areas experienced rapid growth than others, see Russell (1997, 10-17). 33 Entrants in the qualifying round were divided into 10 groups on a geographical basis with the winner of each group progressing to the “competition proper”. Here they were joined by the previous season‟s four semi-finalists “plus the eighteen best clubs, in effect the professional sides” (Mason, 1981, 30n). 34 The original 12 clubs were Lancashire and Midlands based: Preston North End, Bolton Wanderers, Everton, Burnley, Accrington, Blackburn Rovers, Aston Villa, West Bromwich Albion, Wolverhampton Wanderers, Notts County, Derby County and Stoke.

Growth of The Football League (Source: Butler (1987a, 33)): Years No. of Years No. of Years No. of Years No. of Clubs Clubs Clubs Clubs 1888-91 12 1893-94 31 1905-15 40 1921-23 86 1891-92 14 1894-98 32 1919-20 44 1923-50 88 1892-93 28 1898-05 36 1920-21 66 1950- 92

League Structure 1888-1892 One division 1892-1919 Two divisions 1919-1920 Three divisions 1920-1958 Division 3 split into Division 3 North and Division 3 South 1958-1991 Division 3 North and Division 3 South become Divisions 3 and 4 1992- Division 1 becomes Premier League, Divisions 2, 3, and 4 become Divisions 1, 2 and 3 respectively. (Promotion and relegation introduced in 1898).

139

35 The 1889 rules of the league stated: The League shall consist of one representative from each club, such representatives to appoint a chairman, Treasurer and Secretary, and also a Management Committee, consisting of two from each class [the two divisions], in addition to the officers... They shall also conduct the business of the League, and also have power to convene a meeting of the General Committee at any time they may deem it necessary” (in Sutcliffe, Brierley & Howarth, 1938, 4). As Inglis (1988, 15) has noted, although the principle of having two divisions was established in 1889, it was not until 1892 that the „second class‟ was established. Whilst not particularly significant at this early stage in the game‟s history, it is noteworthy that the Football League established the „right‟ to appoint its own officials at the outset. This situation, uniquely, remains in place in England: all other FIFA member associations are responsible for appointing officials to their national leagues. This division of responsibility for appointing officials in England has had important long term consequences which are explored later in this thesis. 36 Smith played for Oxford University, Old Carthusians and the Corinthians and gained 20 caps for England (1893-1901) (Barrett, 1996, 24, and Butler, 1991, 48). Oakley, too, played for Oxford University and the Corinthians and he gained 16 caps for England (1895-1901). From 1902, Smith & Oakley were joint headmasters of Ludgrove prep school and they also shared the secretaryship of the Corinthians (Lamming, 1990, 186). 37 Until 1935, players were permitted to “enquire” why a referee had come to a particular decision. Then, the IFAB withdrew this “privilege” as referees were being “put under pressure and [their] decisions [were] seemingly challenged” (Rous & Ford, 1974, 60). Whilst this „privilege‟ was withdrawn in principle, it is still apparently widely indulged in practice. In comparison, it was not until 1907 that hockey umpires were empowered to make all decisions without appeal (Arlott, 1977, 428). 38 Tyler provides another example of a law change resulting from a specific incident in the 1912 FA Cup Final. A player had been off the field having treatment for a foot injury, when he “suddenly ran on wearing only one boot to thump the ball away from [his team‟s] goal.” Tyler notes that “this incident led to the ruling that a player off the field must receive the referee‟s permission before returning” (1981, 63). It would be interesting to research how many changes resulted from „high profile‟ games such as the Cup Final during this period. Rous & Ford (1974, 54) similarly note how a re-wording of The Laws in 1923 led to players dribbling the ball from corner kicks. They suggest “it had always been understood that the corner- kick was a type of free-kick and that the player taking it could not play the ball a second time until it had been played by some other player. In 1923, this condition was made specific, but by some mischance the words “and corner-kick” were omitted from Law 10 in 1924. At once past practice was forgotten, despite the fact that it had been operative for many years. Some players dribbled the ball from the corner-kick, contending that the Laws did not forbid them to do so, and everything that is in the Laws that is not forbidden, is permitted”. Because The Laws could only be amended by the IFAB at their annual meeting, the practice remained „legal‟ for the duration of the 1924-25 season, resulting in players such as Everton‟s Chedgzoy dribbling the ball into the goal net (Russell, 1997, 86). 39 The use of such time wasting tactics by players to protect a lead in the game was identified as a more general problem by at least 1899, and once again the professional players were identified as the main culprits. Smith provides an interesting account which neatly encapsulates the supposed amateur- sporting/ professional-unsporting dichotomy, and the tendency for players to indulge in any tactics not actually forbidden in The Laws. He wrote: “one other matter which has lately come rather into notice – kicking-out of the ground on purpose to waste time. Professionals are excellent men, but they are paid to do the best for their side, not the best for the sport. In a match, then, between two professional teams it is no uncommon thing to see a lot of this kicking out. Suppose one of the sides to be a goal ahead and a very short time for play remains: on these occasions you will see the leading side kick the ball out of the ground whenever an opportunity presents itself. To win at any cost is the maxim that is followed, and the professionals would probably be considered idiots if they did not embrace any chance of wasting a few minutes. It is perfectly legal to do this, but it is a sort of legality that would hardly recommend itself to sportsmen. It is just the same as getting rid of a batsman in cricket by a ruse; the man who does this is not guilty of any actual infringement of the law, but yet could not be termed a true sportsman. Professionalism has, in fine, made football a business, and, since the professional element is greatly in the majority, there is imminent danger that the sport derived from the game may be altogether lost sight of” (Smith, 1899, 184). In 1922, The FA advised members of the RU that “If, in the opinion of the referee, a player is deliberately wasting time, he should be warned by the referee. If he persists, he would be guilty of ungentlemanly conduct, and be dealt with for that offence. Referees should also be instructed to bring cases to our notice” (RU minutes, 6/10/1922). The earliest reference I have found to referees being required to allow extra time for “all time lost through accident or other cause, the amount of which shall be a matter for the discretion of the referee” comes from the 1938 Laws (in Rous & Ford, 1974, 96), but it is possible that further research will reveal that this principle was embodied in earlier versions of The Laws. 140

Chapter Five: Practical Refereeing Issues 1880s-1900s Having traced the development of match officiating practices in the Laws of the Game during the 19th century, this chapter explores some of the broader, practical issues affecting umpires and, later, referees from the 1880s through to . Again, it must be remembered that evidence regarding match officials during the latter part of the 19th century is relatively scant, but a number of sources afford us insights into their experiences. Initially, I explore the context within which a perceived need for the organisation and „training‟ – or, more accurately „education‟1 - of referees emerged. The consequences of the increasing complexity of the Laws of the Game for referees (outlined in Chapter Four) are briefly examined in connection to this issue. The way this complexity caused problems for players and officials is discussed along with the FA members‟ attempts to address a lack of knowledge about The Laws. Linked to this, the FA‟s initial efforts to diffuse their ideals about how the game should be played and overseen are examined. Again, I consider why this was done and how it relates, in particular, to the training of referees.

Next, issues relating to the increasing significance of fans and the growing power of football clubs are discussed in order to shed light on the emergence of refereeing as an „issue‟ for the game‟s administrators. The match day experiences of officials are explored, specifically in terms of physical assaults on them. The possibility that such attacks convinced members of the FA that there was a „refereeing problem‟ which needed addressing is considered. The way in which an increase in the number of protests by clubs against the outcome of matches may have contributed to such a perception is explored in the next section. Again, the question of how far the FA attributed these problems to referees is explored.

Having explored these „background‟ issues, the next section of this chapter then focuses on The London based Referees‟ Association, set up in 1893

141 (henceforth RA (London)). Under the close supervision of the FA, this body introduced very basic organisational structures around the qualification of officials. They also initiated what could very loosely be described as rudimentary „training‟ and education „policies‟ concerning the interpretation of the Laws of the Game. In this section, information from the existing literature on the RA (London) is pieced together in order to outline the organisation‟s history. Previously undocumented primary sources are also explored, which offer us some insights into the rudimentary organisation and „training‟ of officials at the turn of the century. The issue of payment for referees is briefly examined, but the main focus here is on the RA (London)‟s various publications on The Laws and their interpretation. Coupled with the factual information documented here, the relationships between members of the FA and the RA (London) and Football League personnel are examined towards the end of this chapter. An understanding of the way these dynamic relationships have changed over time (Elias, 1978, pp. 73-76) is, as suggested, vital to understanding the development of the „refereeing problem‟. Finally, I look again at the development of the football subculture and explore the ways the players‟ ethos conflicted with that of the FA.

Background to the Formation of The RA (London)

From the establishment of the FA in 1863 through to the 1890s, The FA had, as Gibson & Pickford put it, done “very little ... in the directions of giving the referee a suitable status and of elucidating troublesome points that arose from the Laws of the Game” (1906b, 115). Against the backdrop of the introduction and expansion of the FA Cup, of the Football League and of international fixtures, this lack of FA guidance to referees seems, in hindsight, fairly astonishing. Certainly, the notion of untrained, unexamined and potentially inexperienced individuals taking charge of equivalent fixtures today is hard to envisage. Yet, taking into account the haphazard, unplanned development of the association game previously discussed, it is not surprising that the notion that referees might need or benefit from organisation and „guidance‟

142 was something of an afterthought. Indeed, the concept of physical fitness training and coaching for players was only just becoming accepted in the 1890s (see Wagg, 1984, 12). As such, with the exception of the 1886 memorandum for referees discussed in Chapter 4, there appears to have been very little consideration of refereeing and absolutely no formal qualification for officials until March 1893, when the RA (London) was formed. Given that The FA had not previously identified a need for the organisation and training of referees, it is interesting to consider why they decided to take action in 1893. In some ways the explanation is axiomatic: referees needed it! The „structure‟ of the game had developed apace around them, their responsibilities had increased and, with numerous changes to the Laws of the Game, their task had become infinitely more complex and challenging (as detailed in Chapter 4). In the meantime, referees had, essentially, been left to get on with the job. However, the ways in which it became apparent that referees „needed‟ training are perhaps less self-evident and merit further discussion. It should be remembered that it is impossible to offer an „absolute‟ explanation about the factors which lead members of the FA to recognise this need, but there are several plausible reasons as to why they contemplated training referees for the first time.

The Increasing Complexity of the Laws of the Game First among these relates to the challenges posed by the increasing complexity of the Laws of the Game. Having explored in depth the significant changes which The Laws underwent during the 1880s and 1890s in the preceding chapter, there is no need to revisit these issues here. They should however be borne in mind as a potential source of concern for FA members. Given the relatively rapid expansion of the game and the increasing complexity of The Laws, it is likely that many disputes and protests (discussed below) came about because of both players‟ and match officials‟ lack of familiarity with The Laws, a lack of guidance over their interpretation and a consequent lack of „shared understanding‟ about what was or was not acceptable. In other

143 words, in order to understand the emergence of the „refereeing problem‟ we need to consider the consequences of these changes to the Laws of the Game.

The FA did take some steps to try and improve both officials‟ and players‟ knowledge of the changing laws. In 1881, for example, the FA secretary, Alcock, had edited the first National Football Calendar, a handbook explaining the rules (Mason, 1980, 20). Likewise, Alcock intended that the 1886 memorandum (discussed in Chapter Four) should be drawn on not only by officials, but also by players:

A few years since the committee of The Football Association issued some memoranda for the guidance of umpires and referees, and as these embrace the various questions about which there is often a difference of opinion among the ill- informed, they may be utilized for the general good of players as well as officials (Alcock, 1890, 62).

As we have seen, the generally ad hoc extension of The Laws from 1863 onwards rendered them relatively complex and „jumbled‟ by the end of the 19th century, particularly in relation to the offside law2. Alcock‟s assertion that differences of opinion over The Laws resulted from “ill-informed” players and officials is, then, likely to be accurate in some senses and the FA and RA (London) memoranda and „hints‟ (see below) probably went some way to addressing this problem. However, it is unlikely that ignorance was the only cause of regular „differences of opinion‟ about what was or was not permitted during games. An alternative causal factor again relates to different views about how the game „should‟ be played, as discussed below.

Communicating FA Ideals About How The Game Should Be Played

As noted in Chapter Four, key members of the FA such as Alcock and, later, Pickford and Rous, embraced the amateur ideals of fair play. But the development of the Laws of the Game reveals very clearly that not all players shared that ideology. Thus, The Laws became more explicit and differentiated

144 and more „offences‟ were identified and prohibited. Penalties for breaking The Laws were introduced (i.e., the indirect free kick) and these gradually became increasingly punitive and severe (i.e., the penalty kick and the sending off). Third parties were introduced to oversee the game and were later required to be independent of the involved clubs. They were given increasing powers and jurisdiction over players, eventually acquiring the power to act relatively autonomously (i.e., not having to wait for an appeal before intervening). But the need for these more stringent measures designed to counter players‟ infringements of The Laws was something rued by FA members. For example, Gibson and Pickford expressed with regret that it was:

an unfortunate commentary on the game that the prohibitive and punitive clauses form the bulk of the regulations, stipulations as to what the players shall not do, and as to what retribution ought to follow if they do the prohibited things… From an ethical point of view this is a pity, but … damnatory clauses are no new things in the game… There is no class monopoly of virtue and no sectional predisposition to vice, and one sadly has to admit that punishments are needed in football (1906f, 187).

The above quote embodies a recognition that not all players shared the FA members‟ ideology about how the game should be played. But if the FA members recognised this, it did not stop them trying to get players to play the game the way they wanted it to be played. Thus, as we have seen in Chapter Four, when players adopted practices which, although not specifically forbidden in the „letter‟ of the written laws, were seen by the FA to be against the „spirit‟ of the game, so the FA included clauses to attempt to eradicate them. In essence, the resulting changes to The Laws are indicative of the ongoing power struggle between those shaping The Laws and those playing the game about the legitimacy of certain practices, an issue which is addressed in more depth at the conclusion of this chapter. Alcock‟s educational publications represent one aspect of an FA strategy to encourage other football personnel to accept the FA view of the way the game ought to be played.3 And, as discussed below, the establishment of The RA (London) can

145 be understood as another aspect of the FA‟s attempts to diffuse their „ideals‟ about how The Laws should be interpreted and applied.

Coupled with this, the introduction of the RA (London) indicates a recognition by the FA members that officials needed more formal organisation, training and guidance. As suggested, within the developing professional football culture, referees had been rather left behind and, by 1894, one commentator on the game was arguing that “the future of the game rests upon a successful solution of the referee problem” („Rob Roy‟, 1894, 17). The lack of „suitable‟ referees did not go unnoticed by amateurs either, for Jackson observed “the difficulty of obtaining capable referees is indeed very great” (1900, 344). In fact, he went as far to suggest “the majority of referees are more or less incompetent” (1900, 345)4. Two other factors, explored in more depth below, also explain why the FA moved to address the „referee problem‟ when they did. The first relates to physical attacks on referees, the second to the increasing number of protests by clubs about match results.

Physical Attacks On Referees Jackson (1900, 342) and Green (1953, 559) have suggested that referees were very often “not called upon to give a decision throughout the whole match” (1953, 559). There is, however, significant evidence to suggest that they were the target of attacks by spectators relatively frequently, presumably as a result of their interventions – or lack of them- during games. Indeed, Green himself suggests that in the early 1880s there were, “a number of assaults upon referees by crowds that had begun to increase both in size and in the warmth of their partisanship” (Green 1953, 71).

The circumstances under which referees had to get to and from matches were certainly conducive to attacks upon them, if spectators were so inclined. Match officials often had to travel to and from the ground with spectators and players and, as Mason suggests, under such conditions they were “always

146 likely hostages to fortune” (1980, 161). Several contemporary sources give a sense of what match officials might have experienced en route – in some ways, not far removed from the experiences of grass roots referees today. The trip often involved running “the gauntlet of an occasionally hostile and nearly always sarcastic crowd” (Pickford, 1901, 40). By the turn of the century, only a few “well appointed” grounds had separate dressing rooms for match officials: more often referees had to change “in company with the players”, something which Pickford suggested might be “a trying ordeal after a game” (1901, 40). Football League referee, Carr5, for example, describes one of his early experiences after the final of a local competition. During the game he had allowed a goal scored by a visiting player who was in an offside position, but who wasn‟t actually offside because the ball had last been played by an opponent: I met with a storm of hoots and jeers from the crowd at the conclusion of the match, but they all cleared off except about a couple of hundred, most of whom were rough and young, and quite ripe for any mischief. They resolved to accompany me. The dressing room was a good ten minutes‟ walk from the ground, through the principal streets of the town, and my escort thoroughly enjoyed themselves, hooting and howling the whole way. … We picked up a stray policeman on the way, and several of the winning team walked near me. Two of these were privates in the Guards… Two or three of their colleagues, who had come down to see them play, joined us and brought up the rear of our protecting force. I felt pretty safe from violence, so far as the laying on of hands was concerned. … some of the „bold and brave‟ spirits on the outside of the mob… commenced stone-throwing. I was hit a few times, as were also some of my companions, but not seriously, and at length we managed to reach the dressing-room very little the worse the wear for our adventure (1894a, 267).

For Carr, the combination of players‟ ignorance of The Laws and the partisan views of supporters created problems for officials during this period. As he put it: “[p]layers don‟t always know, and spectators won’t, when their own side is at fault” (1894a, 268). Fans‟ increasing feelings of identification with „their‟ local, representative side was seen to blind them to the amateur ethos

147 of fair play, for: “to the heated imagination of the spectators, each decision of the referee, no matter who he was, savoured of unfairness and partiality” (Carr, 1894a, 226). By 1900, Jackson was ruing the effect of such treatment, arguing:

Men of the public-school class, many of whom would make splendid officials, will not act because of the insults that referees are subjected to by spectators, players, and – worst of all – a section of the press. Very few men, who have been good players, will subject themselves to these humiliating annoyances (1900, 343-344).

That physical, as well as verbal, attacks on officials may have been relatively commonplace is hinted at by John Lewis, a prominent referee and football administrator6. In 1906, he reflected that “[t]wenty years ago” the “Football Association extended little or no protection to its representative [the referee], and if he were mobbed or stoned as he left the field it was all in the day‟s work” (Lewis, 1906, 263). Carr (1894d, 254-255) noted “several” incidents of referees suffering “somewhat rough treatment at the hands of spectators”, and suggested “[m]any think this practice is on the increase, and by no means confined to the north and midlands”. Mason cites one example from 1884, when the referee of a game between Great Lever (Bolton) and Preston North End who found himself “as referee being cursed and sworn at by a body of dirty low blackguards ... who threatened to smash my (adjective) jaw... I was then struck on the shoulder by clinker...” (Preston Herald, 12 January 1884, cited in Mason, 1980, 162). As Mason suggests, examples such as these “could be multiplied and undoubtedly help to account for the FA‟s concern with training referees” (1980, 173, n110). Indeed, Mason cites “anger at the decisions of the referee” as the cause of the “largest number” of disorders at football matches prior to 1915 (1980, 160), a point echoed by Vamplew (1988, 269) and others7. A rather more serious attack took place near Preston in 1889, described as a “sad affair” in an understated paragraph in The Times:

148 A football match between two teams had been played. The referee was a young man named Mawdsley. A decision which he had given gave some offence to a spectator named Tattersall, who after the match had some words with Mawdsley. In the excitement, he struck the referee and knocked him down. Mawdsley got up appearing much hurt and died shortly afterwards (The Times, April 15, 1889, 11).

Green also notes that two referees were “set upon” in Lancashire in 1883 and, as a result of a similar incident in a cup tie at Wrexham, “the Wrexham club was expelled temporarily from the Association” (1953, 71). In 1891, for the first time, the Laws of the Game required referees to report any “undue interference” by spectators to the FA (see Chapter Four). As well as indicating the FA‟s growing awareness of the „problem‟ of attacks on officials, it also gives us a sense of the organisation‟s growing sophistication and authority. It suggests, as discussed below, that FA members were keen to identify offending clubs in order to punish them. It is also indicative of the increasing constraints placed on referees by the FA – a process which has intensified - as previously relatively autonomous officials were now required to report incidents to the FA. The introduction of this requirement may relate to the increased powers that the referee had been afforded in 1891. It suggests that the FA members anticipated that the application of these new powers might invite hostility from partisan supporters. Perhaps, like „The Free Critic‟, the game‟s administrators were mindful of the potential for such situations to arise with an untrained, unqualified referee in charge – the “incompetent man at the helm” (1891, 36).

It seems this policy alerted the FA to the extent of the problem, for in 1892 League clubs were encouraged to put up a notice which requested “[s]pectators and players ... to assist in keeping order at all matches... and to prevent any demonstration of feeling against the referee, visiting team or players” (in Jackson, 1900, 123, cited by Mason, 1980, 173 n108). The notice also spelt out the consequences of these conditions being breached: the

149 possibility of ground closure. This, it was suggested, would bring “disgrace and great monetary loss to the club” (in Jackson, 1900, 123, cited by Mason, 1980, 173 n108). By 1896, the Laws of the Game included the requirement that:

All clubs connected with the Association must have bills printed and posted in their grounds, threatening with expulsion any person who is guilty of insulting or improper conduct towards the referee. Any misconduct towards a Referee away from the field of play will be dealt with in the same way as if the offence had been committed on the field. Clubs are expected to provide a private way for players and officials from playing ground to dressing room wherever this is practicable. It is the duty of Members of the Council, Officials of the Clubs, and Referees to report all cases of misconduct likely to bring the game into disrepute; and officials of clubs must report any infringement of rules without delay (The Referees’ Chart, 1896, pp.18 and 20)8.

The FA minutes show that between 1895- 1915 there were 46 ground closures and 64 warnings to clubs about spectator behaviour9 in total - across both League and non League football. The highest number of closures came in 1896, when 14 grounds were closed, whilst there were 9 closures in 1895 and 1897. In general, however, only 1 or 2 ground closures were imposed per season during this period. Likewise, there were relatively frequent warnings to clubs in 1895 (9 warnings) and 1896 (11) in comparison to other seasons. In 1906, Lewis argued that the policy of closing grounds, or threatening closure, had proven an effective one, interestingly in terms of enforcing respect for officials:

The severe penalties which have been found necessary in order to enforce respect for the referee and ensure the proper conduct of the game have had the effect of practically putting an end to disorder upon our leading grounds (1906, 263).

The word „practically‟ is significant here. As the table contained in endnote 10 indicates and as Dunning, Murphy and Williams (1988) have demonstrated, the “incidence of reported soccer crowd disorderliness” (1988, 74) was

150 actually relatively high prior to World War I and, although there was a marked decline between the wars in England, it has never completely disappeared. How long grounds were closed for during the late 19th and early 20th century is an area which requires further research, although one example indicates that when the punishment was invoked it was stringently applied. After a referee was attacked at Woolwich Arsenal in 1895, the club‟s ground was closed for six weeks (Mason, 1980, 161).

Again, changes to The Laws of the Game may help explain why the number of attacks were relatively frequent between 1895-1897. In 1895-96, the referee‟s powers were increased, for he could now intervene without waiting for an appeal from the players. This transfer of responsibility and increased authority may have caused resentment and conflict between match officials and players and spectators, although once again we are only in a position to speculate rather than provide definitive explanations. The conflict between officials and those playing and watching the game has generally been explained in terms of the class differences between them. Mason, whilst acknowledging the paucity of available evidence about „who‟ refereed, has argued that many of the individuals who were available to officiate in the late 19th century appear to have come from the “professional classes and the self- employed” (1980, 163), whilst by the late 19th century there were less „gentleman‟ players and more working class professionals. This is supported by Carr (1894f, 667) who noted, “[t]he scholastic profession is well represented on the Southern League list of referees”. Certainly the data on those who refereed the FA Cup Finals, cited previously, indicate that they were drawn from the upper to middle classes.

In terms of those supporting football, Mason (1980, 138-139) demonstrates from the limited available evidence that typically between 2000-5000 spectators were watching cup knock out competitions in the late 1870s to early 1880s, with increasing numbers of games topping the 10000 mark; 30

151 between 1882-1885 for example (1980, 139). During the 1890s League and Cup attendances “rose rapidly for most clubs” (1980, 141). 45000 watched the 1893 FA Cup Final, for example, and this figure continued to rise through to the first world war. Likewise, attendances between 10-20000 were common for league games during the 1890s (Mason, 1980, 143). Mason (1980, 149-151) has also assessed the „type‟ of spectators attending games, arguing that “the majority of the spectators who went to watch professional football matches were working class in origin, occupation and lifestyle” (1980, 150). Holt suggests that for working class spectators “the referee was the enemy, the representative of authority, of „Them‟ against „Us‟”(1989, 174). This sense of difference between the „old‟, amateur, upper-class ethos and the „new‟, volatile, working-class support is neatly encapsulated in Pickford‟s observation about referees that “[t]he men most fitted for the job/ Refuse to face the angry mob” (in Glanville, 1962, 383)10.

It is feasible that the regularity of attacks on referees was one factor which contributed to the FA‟s decision to institute some form of organisation and training for them. It should, however, be remembered that whilst the evidence indicates that dissatisfaction with refereeing performances precipitated crowd disturbances, it is impossible to know what actually „motivated‟ spectators. We do not know, for example, whether spectators were incensed by „genuinely‟ biased refereeing, or by poor refereeing performances by referees not completely familiar with The Laws, or whether spectators reacted to decisions which went against their team because of intensifying levels of partisan support. A combination of these factors can probably explain the hostile treatment of referees.

Protests by Clubs about Match Results Coupled with physical displays of dissatisfaction with officials on match days, protests by clubs to the FA about the results of matches also appear to have become increasingly regular occurrences during the period. Mason

152 notes, for example, that in Lancashire the number of protests over the results of matches increased from 3 in 1879-80 to 17 in 1882-3 (1980, 245n). The Football Association‟s introduction of a policy in 1883 to try to limit the number of protests made to the FA indicates that this situation was not confined to Lancashire. Clubs protesting against one another after FA Cup games had to put down a deposit of two guineas which was forfeited if a club‟s protest “proved to be trivial or groundless in the Committee‟s opinion” (Green, 1953, 71). A similar policy was adopted by the Football League on its inception in 1888, although by then the forfeited fee had increased to £5 (Sutcliffe, Brierley & Howarth, 1938, 4-5). By 1892, however, members of the FA Council were overburdened by the number of disciplinary issues they had to deal with. The Council faced “appeals, protests, resolutions, reports, claims, suspensions, complaints, and applications” (anonymous FA Council member, 1892, quoted in Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 112). Their remit was described in one member‟s assessment of a typical meeting with “over forty items on the agenda” thus: if you were to grind up a police court, a country court, a law court, a court of appeal, an arbitration court, all into one, and throw in a few town councils, boards of guardians, local boards, highway authorities, burial boards, vestry meetings, and so on, it would give you a good idea of the Football Council. One thing you will never, never see at the head office, and that is - a football (anonymous FA Council member, 1892, quoted in Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 112).

The FA addressed the problem of these increasing demands by devolving some of its responsibilities to local associations in 1893-94, including the “right to punish offenders for misconduct or breaches of the laws and rules” (Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 115) and the FA Council was divided up into separate committees (Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 112). Further, in an attempt to reduce prolonged hearings, the FA restricted clubs‟ use of barristers and solicitors to conduct their cases, by refusing “to hear any barrister or solicitor unless he were the secretary of the club concerned” (Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 113). Again, the increase in protests and appeals, which accounted for

153 much of the FA‟s administrative work, could well be explained by reference to factors not connected to refereeing performances. For example, the increase is probably related to the requirement in The Laws in 1891 that referees must report sending off incidents to the FA. Prior to this, referees were perhaps less inclined to report players and, as a consequence, clubs would not have anything to „appeal‟ against. However, once again there are some caveats to be placed around this argument. Carr (1894b, 226), for example, notes an incident when he should have reported a player to the FA but decided not to on the condition that the player apologised to him. He also recollects being called “a very offensive name” during a game and, on discovering the player was due to play for England, decided not to report him because: “ I wanted England to win the International, and should have been sorry to have been the cause of his losing his cap against Scotland” (1894d, 254). How widespread this type of attitude was is unclear, but it clearly demonstrates that the introduction of „legislation‟ to require officials to report offences did not necessarily successfully challenge it. The increase in appeals and protests may also simply have been a consequence of more games being played. But, whatever the reasons for the increase in the number of appeals and protests about the outcome of matches, the increase itself is another factor which may have alerted the FA to the need for training for match officials.

The RA (London) The introduction of the RA (London) is, then, likely to have been in part an attempt to increase the competency of officials in order to reduce both the criticism and protests levelled against them, as well as the physical attacks upon them. By 1894, “ the cry for a more efficient body of referees for League games and Cup Ties” had become “stronger and deeper with every season” („Rob Roy‟, 1894, 17). The FA‟s answer to these demands, in the form of the RA (London) was probably modelled on the associations which had been set up to provide referees for rugby union matches. As in football, similar incidents of attacks on referees preceded the advent of referees‟ associations

154 in the rugby game (See White, 2000, 208-9 and Seward, 1997, 3). Marriott hints that, as in football, concerns over “wrong judgements” had beset rugby administrators, but that the potential for such judgements had “been considerably minimised by the formation of associations to supply subscribing clubs with capable men” (1894, 31). For example, the Gloucester County Football Union of Referees had been established in 1892 (White, 2000, 204) and the London Referees‟ Association for the rugby union game had “supplied 313 referees” for clubs in 1893 (Marriott, 1894, 31).

The RA (London) was, according to Jackson (1900, 346), set up on the initiative of FJ Wall, then the Secretary of the Middlesex FA and from 1895- 1934 the secretary of the FA. From the outset, the organisation was closely linked to the FA, a point more fully explored below. Its council members included Royston Bourke of the London FA, Pickford and “other devoted committeemen” of the FA (Jackson, 1900, 346), whilst Wall was its chairman and Alcock its president (Jackson, 1900, 346; Green, 1953, 172; Robinson, 1934, 303). There is little surviving evidence on exactly what the members of the RA (London) did. A letter to Pickford written in 1895 (reproduced in Appendix 5) indicates that members probably spent some time replying to enquiries about „how‟ The Laws should be interpreted. At this stage, The Laws were still relatively „new‟ and the process of achieving shared understandings about what was or was not allowed was in its early stages. And, again because they were relatively new, The Laws lacked clarity and precision - as Leese, the letter‟s author, noted about one law, “this matter is rather vaguely dealt with”. The process of refining and clarifying The Laws was clearly in its very early stages, for Leese‟s letter is crammed full of questions about the „finer points‟ of interpretation. He asks: “I hope that you will be able to unravel my long rigmarole & beg that you will favour me with a line of enlightenment ... upon my knees I must apologise for all this trouble”. In the process of setting his thoughts down on paper, he appears to have begun a somewhat unstoppable „stream of consciousness‟ and can hardly contain his questions:

155 “one more & I have done... P.S., Just one more ...“ (letter from Leese to Pickford, Oct 28th 1895, FA Archives, reproduced in Appendix 5)11. Leese‟s letter hints at the confusion – and potential for conflict - the relatively ill- defined and imprecise written laws might have generated in dynamic match contexts. And, as discussed later in this chapter, The RA (London) embarked on the „project‟ and process of clarification and “enlightenment” which – as we shall see in later chapters – is an integral, ongoing aspect of football processes. For, the scope for diverse interpretations of the written laws may be gradually reduced by more precise and explicit definitions, but as Lewis notes:

It is ... as impossible to erect football laws which shall convey the full meaning of their proposers as it is to draw an Act of Parliament through which a quibbling lawyer may not drive a coach and four (1906, 263).

On its inception, the RA (London) proposed to “produce the efficient referee by examination” (Rob Roy, 1894, 18). This examination was a „theoretical‟ one, on the Laws of the Game, but exactly what form it took is unclear from other sources. There is firm evidence that an “examining committee” was in existence by at least 1896 (Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 115), but „Rob Roy‟ and Green‟s accounts (1953, 172) suggest it was actually initiated when the RA was set up. Gibson and Pickford (1906a, 115) note that the association “banded together a considerable number of referees” – again, we do not know how many - and “undertook the task of ascertaining the qualifications of persons for the position of referees”. They also suggest that “branches were quickly formed in various parts of the country”. Once more, how many were established and where is unclear, though by 1900 the organisation had “appointed district councils in all the principal South of England football centres” to “examine referees as to their knowledge of the laws, and appoint them, on request, for various matches” (Jackson, 1900, 346). However, those „examining‟ candidates had not necessarily gone through the same process of qualification themselves. Again, this has to be understood in the context of the

156 ad hoc development of the game and, specifically, of refereeing. Pickford recalled „examining‟ a refereeing candidate and, in common with the other members of the examination panel, when asked whether he had ever been examined himself had to admit he had not. As Pickford put it:

We had drifted into the work prior to the organisation of referees, and before the days of examinations, and on the face of it had no proof of our own abilities except that of being in the position we were (Pickford, 1906c, 23).

One piece of previously undocumented evidence provides some insight to the organisational structure of the RA (London) and its remit. This comes in the form of a letter from 1895 (reproduced in Appendix 6) sent by George Pearson to William Pickford, requesting re-election to the RA (London) council. From Pearson‟s letter it is clear that there were several sub-committees in the RA (London). He served on a sub-committee dealing with the “Revision of Handbook” (the Laws of the Game) and also on an appointment committee, which met every week. Considering the influence the RA (London) had in terms of the revisions of the Laws of the Game (discussed below), it is perhaps surprising that, as a council member, Pearson had relatively little experience refereeing matches. Having played football from 1876 he began refereeing school matches and “Junior Ties” in 1891. In 1894, with just three season‟s experience, he began officiating “Senior Ties” and was elected onto the RA (London) Council. He refereed 18 games between Sept 1894 and April 1895, 12 of which were “RA Appointments”. From this list, it is clear that the RA was responsible for the appointment of referees to both senior and junior leagues (e.g., Berks. & Bucks. Senior League; Middlesex Junior), as well as for friendly fixtures. Referees could become members of the association by payment of a subscription and were thus eligible to be appointed to oversee games after examination by the committee. However, Pearson‟s letter implies that this was not always paid, for he was “of opinion ... [t]hat no appointment should be made for members who have not paid their subscription” (Pearson, 1895).

157

Payment of Referees It is interesting that, from this early stage, there was a sense that there was some sort of „privilege‟ in refereeing. For, despite the essentially voluntary nature of the role with the payment of expenses and a small fee, individuals had to pay to make themselves eligible to referee. In The Referees’ Chart of 1896 the RA (London) “compel[led] its members, when appointed through it, only to charge travelling and reasonable disbursements actually paid” (1896, 17). Referees who were seen to undertake their duties for financial gain were disparaged in contemporary accounts, such as the following:

it is my intention to make the fullest effort to purge refereedom of the men who have done the pastime so much injury, and whose great object in getting attached to football has been money and self-aggrandizement (Price, 1901, 33-34).

Similarly, Jackson dismissively suggested that:

the larger majority of referees are either men whose vanity leads them to believe that they are born to officiate, or who make a primary or secondary business of it, and who consider that the fees compensate for the annoyances of the position (1900, 344).

Pearson‟s (see Appendix 6) documenting of his charges and receipts for officiating – the “amount received per match” and the “amount charged per match” - makes intriguing reading. More often than not he received what he had charged (presumably for expenses, such as fares, etc.), but on several occasions he got more than he had charged (sometimes more than double) and, on one occasion, half what he charged. Whilst these discrepancies raise all sorts of questions, on their own they tell us very little. Referees‟ fees are discussed again in Chapter Six, but it must be acknowledged that this is yet another aspect of the history of refereeing which merits further investigation.

158 The RA (London) and Instructions to Referees Gibson and Pickford suggest that “[t]he researches and criticisms of the Referees‟ Association led to a general overhauling of the Laws of the Game, to the addition of some new regulations, and the simplification of others”. (1906b, 115). Significantly, in 1896 the RA (London) was responsible for “a list of interpretations of the laws to guide the examining committee” and “a chart giving the latest decisions of the Council and International Board, and advice to referees, secretaries of clubs, and players”12 (Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 115). These documents were compiled by Pickford under the “official supervision” of the FA and demonstrate the increasing constraints placed on referees by the game‟s administrators. Where previously, as noted, they were free to act relatively autonomously, The Referees’ Chart more clearly delineated their duties and responsibilities. The first chart is filled with instructions about what the referee “must” (or must not) do: “[t]he referee should see that there is no poaching” (1896, 5); on penalties, “he must award a penalty kick with or without appeal for a wilful trip” (1896, 1), “a Referee must enforce law 13, and has no power to mitigate the penalty”; and, “[u]nless the referee considers the trip to be intentional he must not award a penalty” (1896, 14-15). In terms of violent conduct, referees were instructed that they could not ”accept an apology, but must report all cases to the county or district association, if it is affiliated to the National Association, otherwise he must report direct to the National Association within 3 days” (1896, pp. 19 and 21). Similarly, the Chart contains the first known instructions to referees about their „style‟ of officiating. They were recommended, for example, to:

Avoid 1- Discussing or arguing points with players or officials on the field. 2- Arguing points with players, officials or pressmen off the field. 3- Shaking an index finger in the face of a player when warning him. Be down on rough play at the outset. It is better to be too severe than too lenient (1896, pp. 19 and 21).

159 The Referees Chart was supplemented a year later with further Hints to Referees (Pickford, 1897) which again demonstrates the FA‟s concern with how referees were officiating games. Some instructions were of a „technical‟ nature, for example, referees were advised to “[n]ote who commences a game as goal- keeper, and allow no one else to act unless informed prior to the change” (Pickford, 1897). Others again related to how referees „should‟ referee: “it will be necessary for the referee to watch carefully”, and “[t]he referee should decide promptly and not let the game drag on” (Pickford, 1897). How effective these hints and instructions were in terms of achieving a higher level of consistency between referees is of course another matter about which we are likely to remain ignorant. The instructions probably helped reduce the number of “ill informed” officials Alcock had identified and made interpreting the complex laws a little easier for referees. But, as far as is known, referees were never observed or assessed by the game‟s administrators or club officials at this point, so it is unlikely that there were any „measures‟ of the effectiveness of such instructions. Nor is it known how widely they were distributed, although it might reasonably be assumed that, at the least, they were intended for use by Football League referees and those registered with the FA and its county associations.

The Demise of the RA (London) The evidence on how long the RA (London) oversaw the examination and appointment of referees – indeed, the evidence on how long it was actually in existence – is, once again, frustratingly incomplete. Gibson and Pickford vaguely suggest: “[i]t may be sufficient to say that the exertions of this Association after a time led to the Football Association taking over, as a part of its own work the qualifying and organising of referees”(1906b, 115). It seems that this transition took place in 1899-1900. By then, an “[i]nquiry into the subject [of refereeing was] undertaken by The FA which led to the formation of „The Referees‟ Committee‟, whose members were appointed from the [FA] council” (Green, 1953, 558). In 1900, Jackson (346-347) noted

160 that a scheme was “under discussion for forming a National Referees‟ Association, under the auspices of the Football Association ... [to] cover the whole of England,” and that the RA (London) would be merged into this new organisation. The Referees‟ Union minutes make reference to a „Society of Association Referees‟ in 1908, but no other details on the existence of this organisation have been discovered to date. Likewise, The Football Referee and the minutes of the Lancashire Referees‟ Association (LRA) indicate the existence of a “Referees‟ Association” (No. 2, Oct 1913, 9) and “British Referees‟ Association” (LRA minutes, 20/9/1922). Clancy (1982, 1) suggests the latter had been formed to serve referees in the North of England in 1893 and that it moved to London, but once again the evidence supporting this link has yet to be discovered. We do know that the FA oversaw the aspects of refereeing which had previously been the responsibility of the RA (London): by 1901 the registration, appointment and examination of referees was overseen at a local level by County FAs. Referees wishing to be registered with the County FA, for example, had to pay 5 shillings for their examination and first year‟s subscription (see Price, 1901, 36).

Relationships between The RA (London), The FA and The Football League The question of how widely the authority of the RA (London) was „accepted‟ raises some interesting questions. As noted, the organisation was very closely linked with the FA and it is clear from the members of the RA council13 that it was a largely southern based organisation. Pickford was the presenter of the “Popular Lecture on the „Laws of the Game‟” in Holloway, London, but whether he toured with his presentation is unknown14. However, throughout this period the expansion of the Football League and the development of „elite‟, commercial clubs had occurred largely in the north and midlands. In fact, it was not until the third division was split into „north‟ and „south‟ in 1921 that southern based clubs entered the Football League in any great numbers.

161 Whilst the IFAB had been established as the only body which could amend the Laws of the Game, members of the Football League had, from the outset, established the right to appoint officials (nominated by its constituent clubs) to the competition. These officials were, then, probably northern based, refereeing important games attended by significant numbers of spectators. The noted divisions between the „amateur‟ dominated south and the „professional‟ dominated north are, then, also apparent in relation to referees and their organisation – although, as we have seen, these divisions were never as clear cut as this dichotomy implies. The fact that the RA (London) was southern based and closely linked to the FA certainly appears to have affected how it was perceived by those more interested in the professional game. There was, for example, evidence of some disparity between what the FA members saw as appropriate „qualification‟ for match officials and the views of Football League representatives. Discussing the initial announcement with “a flourish of trumpets” of the RA (London), „Rob Roy‟ had questioned how a “self-appointed authority” could solve „the referee problem‟ he had identified:

I fail to see how the examination school of theory can be expected to produce the experience alone assured by practical work. Theory is important, but actual and proved experience on the field of play exceeds all the theory of refereeism. Again, who will recognise the authority of a select and self-elected body? Not here must we look for the remedy („Rob Roy‟, 1894, 18).

In the early years of the Football League, Vamplew (1988, 260) suggests that complaints about the competency of referees overseeing Football League matches were not countenanced. Rather “apologies were often demanded from those rash enough to question the official‟s judgement” (Vamplew, 1988, 260). This initial demonstration of support of officials was, however, relatively short-lived and there are clear signs that members of the Football League were not entirely happy with the standard of referees overseeing games by the late 1890s. As Vamplew puts it, “the League authorities became less

162 dogmatic about a referee‟s omniscience” (1988, 260). Vamplew goes on to note that: “In 1897, following repeated protests about particular officials „note was taken to avoid as far as possible their appointments in matches of complaining clubs‟” (1988, 260, quoting from Football League minutes 5/12/1897). He suggests that this change in attitude may have come about “possibly because fewer members of the Management Committee were then themselves referees, but more likely because of the growing financial importance of the match results”(1988, 260). In fact, there is evidence that the standard of Football League officiating was an issue as early as 1894/95. Then, „Rob Roy‟ suggested that McGregor, founder of the Football League, had proposed the “most practical suggestion offered for the solution of this all-important question”: Class C - New men knowing the game and worthy of a trial. Class B - Men who have passed twelve months in Class C, and have shown ability in the discharge of their duties. Class A - Men of experience, tried and true, and qualified by their service to act as referees in English Cup Ties and League games. These lists to be revised annually. Classes C and B to be under the control of local Associations, and Class A under the control of the National Association. Promotions from Class to Class to be made by Association executives (Rob Roy, 1894, 18)15.

Again, we can gather from the very fact that such a „solution‟ was being proposed that the „problem‟ of refereeing had become an issue. Some informal methods of „judging‟ of refereeing performances did take place in the early 1900s. As discussed in the following chapter, from the turn of the century referees were occasionally suspended by the Football League and the FA after „unsatisfactory‟ performances. And by 1912, Football League referees had to “work their way up to League level by performing satisfactorily in lower grade matches” (Vamplew, 1988, 261). Further, there were local schemes for assessing referees, and such schemes may have been one way in which referees were graded or classified. For example, by at least 1924, members of the LRA were subject to practical assessments, in the form of „Field tests‟ (Clancy, 1982, 1)16. It is quite possible that further research will reveal that

163 similar schemes were developed elsewhere. However, it was not until 1927 that the FA introduced a formal classification system for referees (RU minutes, 22/6/29).

On the face of it, the fact that FA members resisted Football League demands for formal qualification structures for so long might be read as an indication of the FA‟s increased authority by this time. However, in reality, the Football League was actually able to act relatively autonomously in this regard. As we have seen, when the league was established the League Management Committee (LMC) established the right to appoint officials to its own competition. And, as Vamplew suggests above, the Football League appear to have „informally‟ addressed the lack of grading for officials. Members of the LMC selected the officials appointed to games and they appear to have done so by selecting those they considered to be the most „competent‟. The way they reached this judgement is interesting to consider, for it seems to have been informed by club protests. But, how reliable such „protests‟ were as a means of gauging the competence of referees is of course questionable.

In particular, the system of club nominations which was in place at this time (and which still operates in grassroots football) must raise some questions about this process, discussed below. How they came to make judgements on officials is suggested in the RU minutes, where it is claimed that club secretaries had “always reported (confidentially) on referees to the governing bodies” (RU minutes, 10/02/1920). Vamplew suggests that, by 1900, if a referee‟s “general competence or efficiency was questioned, particularly by more than one club, observers were sent to report on his matches” (1988, 261). The LMC were certainly receiving reports by at least 1910, (see Sutcliffe, Brierley, and Howarth, 1938, 15) and this became a formal requirement in 1920 (Sutcliffe, Brierley, and Howarth, 1938, 20). Then, after a number of disturbances at League games, the Football League made it compulsory for club secretaries to report on referees, a point discussed in more depth in

164 Chapter Six. However, Pickford speculates that „competency‟ was perhaps not the quality clubs were looking for in the officials they nominated to league lists. He argues that referees who had sent players off might be „boycotted‟ by clubs and league committees and, as a consequence, not receive match appointments (1906b, 173). Certainly, the evidence put forward by Lewis indicates that clubs were concerned to have „their men‟ on the list, but were rather less concerned about how well qualified they were for the task of officiating: some of the referees on the League list are not upon the register of any affiliated association, and are therefore disqualified from officiating in Football League or any other Association fixtures. This seems to prove that the system of club nominations is not perfect, or men would not be proposed who are either ignorant of the requirements of the Football Association, indifferent as to whether they officiate or not, or afraid that they might be called upon to prove their capacity in a referee‟s examination” (Lewis, 1901, 43).

In 1910, the Football League secretary wrote to clubs pointing out where referees were being “remiss in their duties”: Reports are continually being received that the many unfair and unscrupulous tactics indulged in by some of the players engaged in League football are allowed to pass unpunished by the referees. In other instances the punishment is inadequate. The Management Committee are of the opinion that referees are not exercising their full powers as required by the laws of the game, and desire to further point out the fact that they are remiss in their duties as referees in not taking cognisance of these offences, which they should so penalise as to have a salutary effect on the offenders. Rough and dangerous play, likely to injure players, should be at once stopped, discrimination being made between „robust‟ and „rough‟ play. Firmness should be used at the start of the game, and little trouble, generally speaking, will be afterwards experienced. The Management Committee not only ask but expect referees to at once penalise actions which are calculated to injure the general character of the game (Jan 13th 1910, in Sutcliffe, Brierley, and Howarth, 1938, 15).

165 It is apparent from this that the Football League and the FA shared similar views on how games should be played. But it is also clear that, like members of the FA, Football League personnel appear to have lacked any conception of the relational network (Elias, 1994, pp. 214-215) within which referees were operating. In particular, this Football League communication fails to take into account the ways that the actions of the clubs and the league committee in „boycotting‟ strict referees might constrain the way they refereed games. Perhaps referees did apply The Laws strictly at the outset of games, but players did not modify their behaviour. And, perhaps recognising that to send players off would lead to a boycott, we can see how referees might have been tempted to apply The Laws with some leniency. Locating referees within a relational network can, then, help us to understand how this apparent „leniency‟ emerged. This Football League letter, however, demonstrates a failure to comprehend these interrelationships. The suggestion that “[f]irmness should be used at the start of the game, and little trouble, generally speaking will be afterwards experienced” is a striking example of this failure. Such a conception assumes that players would modify their behaviour. But, having previously traced the emergence of the football subculture, we have demonstrated that players would not necessarily have been concerned about injuring the “general character of the game”. Further evidence supporting this interpretation and illustrating the ways the soccer subculture had developed by this stage is explored in more depth at the end of this chapter.

The fact that the FA members appear not to have seen the need to classify referees by ability can, in part, be understood as an indication of their continued subscription to the amateur ethos in the professional era. As noted, this ethos was not necessarily shared by those playing the game. The possibility that referees of questionable ability were taking charge of Football League games seems fairly likely given the unsophisticated qualification processes, and the fact that some referees were not registered. As suggested,

166 this was in a context where the outcome of league fixtures had become increasingly significant both to the involved clubs and to the fans they represented. As Wagg puts it: The amateur ideal of the game being the thing, which was espoused, often hypocritically, by the game‟s administrators, cut no ice with professionals who had to play in front of volatile local crowds and stood to lose money by a defeat (Wagg, 1984, 8).

That the need for the „best‟ referees to take charge of these fixtures was apparently not recognised by The FA gives us an early indication of the divergent interests of the two bodies, also hinted at in Rob Roy‟s apparent disdain for the RA (London) as a „self-appointed authority‟. Here, then, we have the beginnings of disparity between the FA and the Football League about how the game should be run and overseen. The conflict of interests between the Football League and the FA that emerge at this point are particularly pertinent in the contemporary game and, as such, the long term development of this relationship is discussed in depth in subsequent chapters.

The amateurs who dominated the FA had developed what might be described as a strong „sense of ownership‟ over the Laws of the Game. This attitude was epitomised by Pickford, who worked for the FA for over 50 years and who, as noted, was FA President between 1937-39. As we have seen, he had a significant impact on the development and interpretation of The Laws through the RA (London). Recalling his approach to Pickford regarding the need “to improve the codification of football‟s laws”, Rous suggested:

It was necessary to tread as warily as Agag in putting forward my suggestions for revision. For my vice-president, William Pickford, regarded himself as the supreme arbiter on the laws... When I broached my project to him his reply was „Don‟t you dare tinker with my laws. Don‟t dare alter the meaning of one of them‟ (Rous, 1979, 86).

167 The implications of the FA‟s „sense of ownership‟ over The Laws are important to consider. Perhaps the most important consequence relates to the decreasing tolerance of violent play. As discussed, this shift has been theorised as one aspect of the broader long term, unplanned civilising process (Elias, 1994 and 1986b). The increasing constraints on violent play in The Laws of football, discussed in Chapters Three and Four, were one aspect of this process and a number of other sources, some of which are considered below, provide evidence of the changing attitudes towards violence. And coupled with FA „recommendations‟ about the levels of tolerable violence, the FA also attempted to diffuse their ideals about „fair play‟.

Much of Alcock‟s writing about football, for example, contained advice to his readers on the way they „should‟ play. As such, whilst we often lack evidence on how association football actually was played, Alcock affords us excellent insight into the prevailing view at the FA of how the game was meant to be played. In other words, his accounts reveal something of the underlying ideology which shaped much FA legislation. In 1874, for example, he counselled players against “[i]njudicious charging” on the grounds that “nothing is more calculated to produce a heavy fall and consequent twist than this principle of wild, heedless, attack” (Alcock, 1874, 85). For Alcock, the charge was something “like many other disagreeable potions” which should be administered in “moderation” (1874, 85). Likewise, in 1890 he recommended, “it should be the aim of every player to discountenance, and earnestly, anything like intentional roughness” (1890, 60). Similarly, Gibson and Pickford advised that a „fair charge‟ should be:

delivered with sufficient force to knock the opponent out of his stride, but not to knock him over or send him staggering over the ropes… the charge should be with the shoulder against the upper part of the opponent‟s body. The use of the knee should be sternly repressed, and reckless kicking at once penalised (1906a, 215).

168 Whilst the game‟s administrators were advising players „how‟ to charge correctly, they were certainly not advocating the elimination of the charge altogether. This type of physical contact was seen as an integral element of football and in particular, the „English‟ game. Gibson & Pickford stressed that to allow charging unless it was “violent or dangerous” was essential:

When you can eliminate the spirit of the Anglo-Saxon from the national elements and substitute the mildness and patience of the Hindoo for it, we may perhaps arrive at the playing of football in a purely scientific manner, with no more physical danger than is incurred in a game of lawn tennis or golf (1906a, 212-213).

The process of establishing consensus on „acceptable‟ levels of violence in the game was, and continues to be, contested. Thus, Jackson (1900, 74) saw the prevalent practice of “violently charging the goalkeeper whenever the ball came near his goal” as “playful, but somewhat unpleasant”. He also rued the fact that the “good hard honest charge”, for him “an essential feature of real football”, was penalised by referees overseeing games in “the north of England”- i.e., in the professional game (1900, 343). Similar arguments about “real football” and “good honest” tackling are likely to be familiar to followers of the contemporary game. Such statements were, and are, informed by particular ideologies about masculinity, which will be discussed in depth later in this thesis. Jackson‟s resentment at the changes in the way football was being overseen is wonderfully encapsulated in his account of an „old boys‟ match, during which the referee penalised charging. As a result, Jackson argued, “twenty-two men, most of whom had been at Oxford or Cambridge, were obliged to pretend to play an emasculated game in which they took no interest, because of the vagaries of the referee” (1900, 343).

Coupled with shifting attitudes towards violence, the writings of the early FA administrators also reveal ideals about how the game „should‟ be played in terms of sportsmanship and gentlemanly conduct. For Alcock (1890), “[t]he

169 future of football” rested on those “who have the control of clubs... fearlessly uphold[ing] a spirit of manliness, and insist[ing] on the discouragement of any questionable practices with a view of getting a momentary advantage” (1890, 61). Likewise, Gibson and Pickford counselled players to abide by “the canons of fair play,” suggesting:

A good captain will ... never do violence to his own better instincts by claiming what he is not entitled to, or endeavouring either to hoodwink the officials, or to conceal his own errors. A sportsman, for instance, would not when tripped near the opponents‟ penalty area roll over the mark, and then try to deceive the referee. Nor, if he knew the ball was his opponent‟s for a goal kick, would he insist on a corner to his own side (1906a, 207).

What is striking about these accounts is that they that reveal many of the foul practices usually seen to have emerged in the latter part of the 20th century, were apparently already problematic – perhaps endemic - by the turn of the century. It seems that for some - perhaps many - players, the “canons of fair play” lacked meaning or relevance. For Gibson and Pickford to outline so graphically the „unsporting‟ behaviour in which players should not indulge is an indication players had already developed this range of behaviours. As previously suggested, the development of The Laws reveals that as specific practices were identified as offences in The Laws, players began to indulge in tactics which, though not specifically forbidden, were seen to be against the „spirit‟ of the game. This, it was argued, revealed the emergence of the „soccer subculture‟; the differences in ideologies about how the game should be played, and how it was played. In Pickford and Gibson‟s account, it is evident that the players, the proponents of the „soccer subculture,‟ had, like The Laws, the administration and all other aspects of the game, developed and become more „sophisticated‟. Now there is a recognition that players are attempting to “hoodwink” and deceive the referee. And, as Gibson & Pickford indicate, a number of „subtle‟ practices designed to do just that had emerged:

170 The worst fouls are often the least noticeable. Few players ever… put a leg out and squarely trip [an opponent] up. That is very amateurish to them, and old-fashioned. Instead, there is a clever little kick on the instep, or a well-timed tread on the foot, or a jab with the elbow that serves the purpose, and is also less likely to cause notice… Pushing is almost a fine art. … cleverly timed little touches… Handling the ball is reduced to a science (1906a, 217).

The sense that these tactics were not “football as it should be played” (1906a, 217) clearly underlines the growing divide between the reality of how games were being played and the ideals of those devising The Laws. Gibson and Pickford vocalised the notion that such tactics should be prevented “for the good of the game”: an enduring ideal for the FA and, later, for FIFA. It was not, however, an ideal shared by the players or, indeed, the fans:

It is painful to me to sometimes hear… dirty play applauded. … The ordinary Englishman does like fair play, he prefers the fist to the knife, and objects to three attacking one. … But he may be educated to approve of foul play and become callous in his views as to what is fair play (Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 222).

Gibson and Pickford‟s account of the „problem‟ is clearly infused with ideological beliefs about how the game „should‟ be played and about the „nature‟ of fans. But the idea that „fans‟ had to be „educated‟ to approve of foul play is highly questionable. For, the „Englishman‟ [sic] watching the game was subject to the same social processes as the players who played it and who indulged in foul play. In other words, the authors fail to recognise that players and fans might have shared similar ideologies. The „shared understanding‟ about how the game should be played, previously noted, was not fixed by the establishment of The Laws. Rather, it was (and is) subject to change over time, and was (and is) shaped by those playing and watching the game, not just by those shaping The Laws. The process of establishing that understanding is then, best understood as an ongoing process, contested by the various groups in the football network. As such we can see in the above example how the interrelationship between players and fans becomes highly

171 significant within the match context. With the fans applauding “dirty play,” we can see how the tolerance of practices not approved of by the game‟s legislators might have resulted in them becoming established and legitimised. In later chapters, I will explore the extent to which referees, too, can be seen to have shared specific aspects of the ideologies which players and fans embraced. Another aspect of the process of foul practices becoming legitimised relates to those groups involved in the running of clubs. As Gibson and Pickford astutely suggest:

a great responsibility rests upon club officials, directors, committeemen, and others, a responsibility which many are, unfortunately, inclined to let rest on the shoulders of the referees … it is putting too great a responsibility on the referees, and… it is tacitly saying to a player, „you may foul, only don‟t let the referee catch you‟ (1906a, 217).

Although not explicitly expressed by the authors here, their assessment reveals the way in which the „soccer subculture‟ emerged and was tacitly supported by those watching the game and by those who employed the players. At this stage, there is a recognition that referees should not, and could not, „bear the burden‟ of attempting to ensure that the FA‟s ideals were upheld. As we shall see, such understanding was short-lived. The ways in which the FA and the Football League began to shift responsibility on to referees is assessed in the next chapter. There, I explore the introduction of the Referees‟ Union in 1908 and the pertinent issues which affected referees in the early part of the 20th century.

1 Inverted commas are used here because although referees were being „trained‟ in the sense that they were being „taught‟ how to referee, as I go on to demonstrate, the word „training‟ implies a rather higher level of intervention than was actually the case. 2 As suggested in Chapter 4, the offside law appears to have been the cause of frequent disputes. It has, as Rous & Ford put it “occasioned more controversy and presented problems more difficult of resolution than almost any other” (1974, 54). With its various clauses and „exceptions‟, it probably remains the most complex of the FA laws. It can safely be argued that its „finer points‟ continue to cause confusion and misunderstanding in the contemporary game - even to those familiar with The Laws! It seems likely that there were many players, spectators and officials who were „ill-informed‟ about this particular law. Though the principle of the law remained unchanged since 1866, the offside law was subject to numerous drafts, revisions and rewordings (for example in 1873, 1880, 1881, 1891, 1903, 1907, 1922, 1925 and as part of the general revision of the wording of The Laws by Rous, in 1938). It is not possible or indeed necessary to detail these changes, but interested readers can consult Rous & Ford (1974, 54- 59 and 103-105) for detailed coverage.

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3 The extent to which this was a successful strategy in getting players to play the game in the spirit intended by the FA is questionable. Once again, this matter is explored more fully in later chapters. 4 Likewise, Smith complained: “[p]eople seem so often to imagine that they can be good referees without much practice; they do not care to take the trouble to go through the drudgery of watching games… they know the rules, they probably argue, and therefore can manage all right; they are, however, dismal failures (1899, 159-60). The criticisms of both Smith and Jackson concerning referees seem to be related to their staunch views on amateurism and a belief that referees didn‟t „know‟ how to referee properly (i.e., in line with how they thought the game should be played). See Chapter Six for further discussion of Jackson's views. 5 Carr later became Assistant Honourable Secretary of the RA (London). 6 John Lewis (1855-1926) founded Blackburn Rovers FC in 1875. He refereed the FA Cup Final in 1895, 1897, 1898 and was president of the Lancashire FA and Blackburn Referees‟ Association. He was also an FA Councillor and a member of the Football League management committee (Blackburn Referees’ Association: 100 years, 1). In the same way that the FA Cup competition was once dominated by amateur clubs and then by professionals this shift is also apparent in terms of those overseeing the competition. Like Lewis, many of those overseeing the finals in the early 20th century were based in the north/ midlands. For example: 1903 Cup Final, J Adams, Birmingham; 1908, TP Campbell, Blackburn; 1910, JT Ibbotson, Derby; 1911, JH Pearson, Crewe; 1913,A Adams, Birmingham; 1920, JT Howcroft, Bolton. 7 See also Lewis (1996, 323-328), Dunning, Murphy and Williams (1988, 95-96), Inglis (1988, 39-40), Murphy, Williams and Dunning (1990, 73- 75) and Vamplew (1980) for other reported incidents towards the end of the 19th century. 8The Referees Chart also included the following „hints to secretaries‟: ”Bring before the notice of your committee any conduct on the part of a member of your club which is likely to bring the game into disrepute. If persisted in a club ought not to allow any such offender to continue to belong to it, for not only may such conduct bring punishment on a player but it gives a club a bad name and may lead to a more serious trouble. Put your foot down strongly on the practice of players using bad language on all occasions, or addressing observations to the Referee on or off the field”(1896, 15) and; “If you find the spectators on your ground beginning to annoy the referee take care that you arrange for his protection both during and after the match, and get your committee to refuse admission to your ground to notoriously bad characters. See that you have bills posted in your grounds respecting misconduct towards the Referee” (1896, 19). Players were advised: “Under all circumstances go at once to the help of the referee, if any disturbance arises for the credit of the game and yourselves” (1896, 19). 9 Ground Closures and warnings to clubs about spectator disorder 1895- 1915 (from FA Minute books, in Dunning, Murphy and Williams (1988, 95)

Year Closures Warnings Year Closures Warnings 1895 9 9 1906 2 6 1896 14 11 1907 1 5 1897 9 5 1908 0 2 1898 1 1 1909 1 2 1899 4 2 1910 0 4 1900 2 3 1911 2 2 1901 0 7 1912 1 1 1902 Records missing 1913 0 0 1903 1914 0 2 1904 0 1 1915 0 1 1905 0 0

10 These lines come from Pickford‟s poem „The Referees‟ Opinion‟, circa 1900. In his analysis of British sports in the 18th and 19th century, Harvey has similarly suggested that shifting attitudes towards those in authority led to the withdrawal of „gentlemen‟ from the role of umpires and referees. He argues “Before Waterloo, referees had tended to come from a higher social class than the competitors and much of the latter‟s obedience stemmed from social deference... This pattern continued until the early 1820‟s [sic], with the socially respectable... acting as referees ... the principal reason for the withdrawal of „gentlemen‟ from the supervisory role was the amount of trouble, in terms of lawlessness, disobedience and financial squabbles, they encountered” (Harvey, 1995, 262- 263). 11 This, and the letter discussed below, was discovered in the FA library, Soho square, tucked inside Gibson & Pickford‟s (1906) Association Football & The Men Who Made it.

173

12 This was The Referees Chart, which was subtitled „Laws of the game, Rulings Recommendations and decisions of The Football Association and International Board, Hints to referees, hints to secretaries, hints to players‟. 13 In 1896, for example, the membership of the RA (London) Council was as follows: CW Alcock (Consultative Secretary Football Association) Vice-presidents FJ Wall (Secretary Football Association), Lieutenant Simpson (Royal Fusiliers) TS Oldham (Old Westminsters). Councillors: E Bissiker (representative Middlesex County), Herbert Bourke (representative Middlesex League and Alliance), Lieutenant H Chase (ASC, Woolwich), WJ Dance (representative Berks. & Bucks FA), A Davis (great Marlow), Colonel Handley (representative Surrey FA), WH Harding (Clapton), W Henderson (Millwall Athletics), F Jones (West London League and Alliance), Bert M Lockyer (representative South London League), E G McDonald (Old St Marks), EE Stuart (representative County FA), T Saywell (Chatham), GA Pearson (Queen‟s Park Rangers), H Pickford (representative Hampshire Football Association), Cecil Powditch (representative Tottenham League and Alliance), HC Platt (Olympians), WJ Wilson (Old Londonians). Assist. Hon Sec. SR Carr (Dulwich) Hon Sec & Treasurer A Royson Bourke (London FA). (The Referees’ Association Chart, 1896). 14 A printed invitation to the lecture on October 12th was found in the FA archives. The year in which the lecture was held is unknown, although as Pickford was by then Vice-President of the RA (London), it must have been between 1896-1900. 15 There is some question as to whether this proposal was actually made by William McGregor. An article by J.A. MacGregor of Morecambe in The Football Referee (1913, 12) notes that “the writer” had submitted the proposal for graded referees to the FA in 1895. 16 Interestingly, Hay (1999, 22) notes that „field tests‟ were used to test referees in Newcastle, Australia as early as 1912. By then, an English immigrant, Tom Crawford, had established a referees‟ association and was apparently training and assessing referees. Hay notes that many „English‟ refereeing practices were relatively quickly exported to Australia. For example, the two umpire, one referee system introduced in England in 1880-1 was being employed in Australia by 1883-4 and a Referees‟ Association was formed within the „Southern British Football Association‟ (in Australia) by 1897. It is then quite possible, indeed likely, that the practices Crawford utilised in Australia in 1912 were already being used in England.

174 Chapter Six: The Referees’ Union This chapter focuses on the establishment and development of the Referees‟ Union (the RU, renamed the Referees‟ Association (RA) in 1921/2). Formed in 1908, the RU has, to date, received little more than a cursory mention in the existing literature on the history of football (see for example: Booth (2002, 59), Thompson (1998, 136), Mason (1980, 162 & 173) and Witty (1960f, 199)). Here evidence from the RU/RA minute books is discussed, thus bringing to light previously undocumented material about the organisation‟s early years. Given the extensive period covered, a full review of the issues addressed by the RU/RA is not possible. Below a selection of those which are representative of „recurring themes‟ are discussed. This analysis is supplemented by reference to the minutes and „potted histories‟ of local referees‟ associations, as well as to FA documents and other contemporary sources. This section combines empirical detail with analysis of the relationships between RU/RA members and other football personnel to develop our understanding of the issues affecting referees in the early part of the 20th century. The central focus here is on the early years of the RU/RA, but where relevant longer term themes are highlighted.

The context in which the organisation was established is initially considered in order to shed light on „why‟ the union was formed and, in turn, how this can inform our understanding of refereeing problems. Having outlined the formation of the RU, the next section of this chapter looks at the national body‟s attempts to increase its membership and encourage existing local associations to affiliate. The reasons why some associations were reluctant to join are explored. I then briefly examine the parallels which can be drawn between the RU and trade unions more generally and also look at the most significant distinction: the absence of a policy supporting strike action by members. The next section of this chapter moves on to discuss the way the union members attempted to address two of their key aims. Here I consider

175 national and local efforts to „improve the standard of refereeing‟ and to „protect members from injustice‟. This latter discussion looks in depth at the issue of assaults on referees and examines the response of the RU, local associations and the FA. Next, the shift in attitudes towards referees from the FA and Football League are explored, in terms of the introduction of suspensions and fines for referees. The suspension of the 1913 Cup Final referee is then discussed in depth as a „case study‟ to examine the impact of the policy of suspending referees and the limited effectiveness of RU opposition. Finally, the reasons for the long term lack of „success‟ for the RU are considered.

The establishment and development of the RU is particularly pertinent to this study for two reasons. Firstly, it provides tangible evidence of the emergence of a „group identity‟ for referees, whereby previously disparate individuals organised around common issues to make a potentially relatively powerful alliance. The reasons the RU was relatively ineffective in relation to other groups in the football world is explored throughout this chapter. Secondly, the keen focus on issues relating to the protection and promotion of referees outlined in the RU objectives provides a significant indication of their status at this time. For, as Waddington (1975, 37) has pointed out in relation to the development of the British Medical Association, the establishment of „representative‟ bodies points to the existence of underlying “problems shared by many members of the occupational group in question” . In essence, the development of the RU points to an underlying concern with the relatively low status of referees. In part, as explored in the previous chapter, this is evident in the criticism of and attacks on referees. Pickford (1906b, 11) suggested “[t]he agitation for a [Referees‟] Union burst into life owing to a strong appeal in „The Athletic News‟ consequent upon the unpleasant experiences of referees in many parts of the country”. But there is also evidence that there were more general criticisms of officials and, in particular, a sense that they were the subject of ridicule and derision and, in general, that

176 a lack of respect was accorded to them 1. As Lewis put it, whilst the FA policy of closing grounds had diminished the possibility of referees being attacked on match days, “nothing has sufficed to muzzle the angry spectator or to prevent vocal or printed criticism from making itself felt” (1906, 263). The establishment of the RU can be understood as an attempt by interested parties to address this problem: to improve refereeing standards, to establish a „professional‟ identity and to improve the status of officials. How they went about this is discussed later in this chapter. First though, the structure of the organisation is outlined.

Prior to this discussion, it is necessary to note the limitations of minutes as a „source‟. Unhelpfully, but not surprisingly, those who recorded the early RU minutes were clearly not concerned as to whether they might be of interest to researchers almost a century later. In other words, they are often incomplete and provide only part of „the story‟- for example, the reaction to a letter, but not the letter itself. Careful scrutiny of the longhand minutes reveals tantalising hints and leads which are never referred to again. In part, this simply reflects the „nature‟ of minutes as a historical source, but it can also actually tell us something about the RU itself. As shall be discussed, issues often appear to have been heatedly debated, but never pursued. Statements such as: “various members of the executive made suggestions and eventually it was decided to let the matter drop” (23/2/1912), “[a]fter some discussion it was decided not to take any action (20/05/1911) and, “it was decided to let the letter lie on the table” (6/10/1922) are typical.

The Formation and Structure of The Referees Union Though, as noted in Chapter Four, Jackson suggested that a National Referees‟ Association was being considered in 1900, the RU was not set up until 1908. The organisation which emerged was probably significantly different to that which Jackson had envisioned. As the name implies, the RU members were more concerned with issues about their „occupational‟ status

177 and the „protection‟ of referees than their London based predecessors had been. Similarly, from the outset, the RU was more closely linked to the Football League although some key members were also important FA officials. As we shall see, the relatively close links between the FA, the league and the RU were not necessarily conducive to the RU aims being achieved. These issues are explored in depth below.

The proposals for the formation of a Union had appeared in the Athletic News, then edited by JA Catton2, who became closely involved with the RU in its early years and was its president between 1913-15 (RU Minutes, List of Executive Committee, 1915- 16 season). Prior to the official formation of the RU, a meeting of referees was convened by Charles Sutcliffe at the Crosby Hotel, Manchester on March 5, 1908. Sutcliffe3, who had played and refereed in the Football League, served on the League Management Committee from 1898-1939 and became League president in 1936 (Tomlinson, 1991, 31-32). He was president of the RU from 1908-1913 and again from 1916-1919/20. Some of the interesting issues raised by Sutcliffe wearing these „different hats‟ are addressed towards the end of this chapter.

Sutcliffe was elected chairman at the initial meeting to establish the RU, which was attended by “nearly 100 referees” (RU minutes, 5/3/08). No record of „who‟ they were survives, but the evidence suggests that both League and non-League officials were involved. For, Sutcliffe “intimated that every League referee who had been approached on the question of the formation of a Union to the number of 39 had heartily approved the idea and promised to join” whilst 27 non-League referees had sent letters approving the scheme.

The minutes from this and later meetings also indicate that other local referees‟ organisations had been established by this time, as the “Society of Association Referees” and the “Northern Society of Referees” had also written voicing their approval (RU minutes, 5/3/08). Again, this aspect of refereeing

178 history suffers from a lack of surviving evidence, but a number of similar, local bodies for referees had emerged during this period – for example the oldest known such organisation, the North Staffordshire Referees Club was established in 18964. Certainly in the north of England, within a thriving football culture, referees in many towns and cities had established local societies; for example, Manchester, Bolton, Blackburn and York societies had all joined the RU by November 1908 (RU minutes, 13/11/08) and a number of others are also mentioned in the RU minutes5. The minutes of these local organisations have yet to be explored, if indeed they survive. If accounts from later societies serve as a guide, it is likely that these local societies provided opportunities to discuss „knotty points‟ in the Laws of the Game and to socialise through activities such as „smoking concerts‟ and „whist drives‟. Local societies often comprised relatively few members; for example the Fylde RA was established in 1908 a membership of 14 which had doubled by 19096, whilst the North Riding (Yorks.) RA was formed at a meeting in 1907 with 12 referees present (Loudon, 1982)7.

At the initial meeting to establish the RU, Sutcliffe was elected as RU President and the structure of the organisation was established. Three regional divisions were set up (North, South and Midlands), provision was made for an annual conference and the membership fee was set at 5 shillings for seniors, 2 shillings for juniors (RU minutes, 9/5/08). Unlike the RA (London), then, from the outset the RU was intended to become a national organisation, covering both the amateur dominated south and the areas of the country where the professional game predominated. However, the indications are that the RU was initiated by individuals based in the North and Midlands, for the list of those who attended the inaugural meeting is entirely made up of individuals based in those areas8.

Each region had an elected „Divisional Executive‟, comprising a vice president and an additional four elected members, one of whom was honourable

179 secretary for that division. These Divisional Executives generally met every few months. The members of each Divisional Executive formed the „Executive Committee‟ of the RU which met quarterly (RU minutes, 30/5/08). The Executive Committee was supported by a honourable secretary and a treasurer – the latter was the FA‟s Pickford until the First World War. The services of firms of solicitors were secured for each section, whilst Sutcliffe, a barrister, indicated “he would be personally willing to render assistance at any time” (RU minutes, 30/8/08). Although the need for a headquarters was identified in 1929 (RU minutes, 22/6/1929), it was not until 1977 that offices were purchased in Coventry for that purpose. In the same year the first full time employee, an administrator, was appointed (RU minutes 4 & 5/2/77). In comparison, the FA‟s first paid employee was Alcock, in 1886! Such an appointment at the RU/RA was probably long overdue: 300 referees had attended the first annual conference in Nottingham in 1908 (RU minutes, 9/5/08); by 1977 membership totalled 15, 940 (RA minutes, 15/4/1978).

The RU Aims Catton neatly summed up the dual aims of the RU in his address to the first meeting on the “need of a Union and how it might serve the interests of the Referees and promote the good of the game” (RU minutes, 5/3/08). At this initial meeting, the proposed “objects of the union” were defined:

A To improve the status of referees. B To improve as far as possible the standard of refereeing. C To promote a closer relationship between referees and Association and Clubs. D To assist all Associations in promoting the best interests of the game. E To assist all existing Associations in their educational and general work. F To watch and promote the interests of referees in general. G To protect the members from injustice. H To assist or take action by or on behalf of any referee unfairly or unjustly treated.

180 I To make such representations to the governing bodies as may be thought necessary for the good of the game and the benefit of referees. J The provision of a Benevolent Fund to aid referees or their dependants in case of need, sickness, or death.

These proposals were accepted with two amendments at the first RU conference in Nottingham – the words “legal or otherwise” were added to clause H and, interestingly, the words “and Clubs” were omitted from clause C. It is impossible to establish with a high degree of certainty why this latter change was made from the minutes of the meeting. It is probably indicative of a growing sense of the need to be „shown‟ to be neutral and avoid accusations of partisanship. Back in 1894, referee, Carr, had commented with pride on his „close‟ relationship with a local club:

I believe I was somewhat of a favourite, both with the club officials and the spectators, for I had been down to the ground four or five times, and had had as many more invitations which I had been unable to accept. The players had tea together after the matches, and as a rule I stayed and spent a very pleasant evening afterwards (Carr, 1894e, 267).

By the early 1900s these kinds of relationships were strongly disapproved of by football administrators, particularly in the upper echelons of the game. The Football League introduced formal polices to try to minimise the possibility of referees being „courted‟ by clubs, presumably in the hope of receiving some „favours‟ on match day. As Vamplew notes, a range of restrictions were introduced to try to ensure Football League referees remained neutral. Clubs were warned:

not to allow referees to have lunch with either players or club executives; not to write to congratulate referees who had secured a place on the official list; and not to pay referees more than their set fee and travel expenses. For their part referees were told not to speak to players during the game and they were also banned from writing for the press or from betting on football matches (Vamplew, 1988, 260)9.

181 Local To National Development The early meetings of the RU reveal members‟ efforts to affiliate existing local societies to the Union (see, for example, RU minutes, 13/3/08, 13/11/08, 17/1/09). This process, which paralleled the development of the FA as a national organisation, involved writing to societies to invite them to join and many visits by the Executive Committee members, usually Sutcliffe. By 1910, there were 244 affiliated members (i.e., their local society was affiliated) in the Northern division, 18 in the Midlands and 61 in the Southern section (RU minutes, 27/1/10). It was an ongoing process; for example, in 1913 the RU executive was still arranging RU speakers to go and meet with unaffiliated societies (RU minutes 7/2/13). The relatively low figure in the midlands probably relates to the existence of an apparently well organised Birmingham & District Referees‟ Association (B&DRA), which did not initially affiliate to the RU.

The relationship between the RU and the B&DRA is instructive in terms of illuminating the problems faced by the national body attempting to achieve unity with its affiliated associations. After a number of meetings between B&DRA representatives and the RU executive (see, for example, RU minutes, 30/5/08) the organisation had affiliated by 1911 (RU minutes, 20/1/11). Their membership was short-lived, however. In January 1911, the B&DRA “reported the expulsion of one of its members Mr J. G. A. Sharpe and asked the Executive of the R.U to recommend the same course to the AGM”. The reasons for the expulsion are not clear, but the RU executive resolved to take no action themselves (RU minutes, 20/1/11). At the same meeting, a resolution was put forward by the B&DRA regarding “[m]ore uniform treatment of linesmen by referees”, but the “matter was not discussed”. By May, the B&DRA had seceded from the Union, apparently over the „Sharpe case‟ (RU minutes, 20/5/1911). Whilst the president resolved to meet with the B&DRA, it was a further 2 years before they rejoined. At the meeting to

182 discuss the matter, the B&DRA representative revealed the reasons for leaving:

they did not approve of the action of the Union in several cases, & they considered the Union had not fulfilled the objects for which it had been constituted. If it could be shown that the movement was being better managed and was doing good work on behalf of referees then they would be prepared to consider the matter. Mr Green [B&DRA Vice president] referred to other matters besides mismanagement which had prompted their action, referring at some length to the „Sharpe case‟, & regretting that the President was not present (RU minutes, 7/2/13).

The B&DRA concerns point to two interrelated issues which dogged the union: its inability to „deliver‟ what it was set up to do and the problems caused by what might be described as „personnel‟ issues, particularly in relation to the president, Sutcliffe. Conflict between local associations and the national body is often apparent in the minutes. The lack of unity caused by such disputes is both a „symptom‟ and a „cause‟ of the RU‟s ineffectiveness during the early 20th century. The organisation struggled to represent the interests of the diverse groups which came under its umbrella and, as discussed below, as a consequence members of local associations questioned the authority and ability of those leading the organisation. As a result, the RU minutes reveal a preoccupation with internal issues and „in-fighting‟. This, in turn, often seems to have prevented members from „looking outwards‟ and actually tackling many of the issues affiliated associations were concerned about. The example given here serves as an introduction to these issues, which are explored in more depth below.

In 1913 it was reported that referees‟ societies were “springing up all over the country, and, except in one or two instances, [had] affiliated to the Union” (The Football Referee, No 2, October 1913, 3). However, 6 months later, Sutcliffe was imploring: “Referees, Wake Up!”, apparently disgusted at the apathy of a fairly substantial proportion of referees. He wrote:

183

Amongst the referees of this country there are some of the grandest men I know…but their number is few. Amongst the rest there is a large number… that sicken one. This article is meant for the latter. Will everybody who gets a Football Referee for this month give it away, and give it to a referee who is not connected with the Union. There are 6,000 of them, and many are a disgrace to their position. The Union is nothing to them. The Union Magazine is nothing to them. Oh the selfish grab-all referee! (Sutcliffe, 1914, 2)10.

Those „6000‟ non-members compares to 886 RU members in 1913, which increased to 1588 by 191411. Though Sutcliffe might not have appreciated it, achieving this membership and, indeed, sustaining a steady increase in the following years, is probably better understood as evidence of the Union‟s relative „success‟. This assessment is based on comparison with the original players‟ union, the Association of Footballers‟ and Trainers‟ Union. This forerunner to the Professional Footballers Association (PFA) was established in 1898 but was short-lived. The reasons Wagg gives for its demise are equally applicable to the RU and its members:

Doubtless because at the time its members were employed by their clubs for match-days only and thus lacked any firm occupational identity, the union lapsed in the early 1900s (Wagg, 1984, 11).

Unlike the players, these conditions have prevailed for all but a tiny minority of contemporary referees12. As such, the survival of the RU is noteworthy, perhaps even more so given the internal divisions which beset it in its early years, discussed towards the end of this chapter. That the RU endured these problems is both testimony to the commitment of the volunteers who comprised it and an indication that the issues they set out to address at the outset have never really „gone away‟.

It is interesting that the RU‟s aims and remit, its structure and organisation shared many features common to trade unions. Like the trade union

184 movement, the RU developed from small and localised bodies into a national organisation (Gardiner & Wenborn, 1995, 752). It developed from the „ground up‟, for local societies preceded the national body which was then established in order to bring these organisations under one „umbrella‟. The „social‟ aspects of organisation which were integral to local referee societies again parallel developments in the Trade Union movement. In the late 18th century many trade unions had been founded partly as „social clubs‟ (Gardiner & Wenborn, 1995, 752). For example, in the 1850s the Glasgow Coopers organised “annual soirees, pleasure excursions, vocal and instrumental concerts”(in Pelling, 1963, 57). And, in parallel with the concept of „Mutual Insurance‟ in the Trade Union movement, a Benevolent Fund was established by the RU in order to support members in financial difficulty.

One significant exception in terms of shared features with the trade union movement, however, is that the RU never embraced the principle of taking strike action. Only one instance of referees going on strike in the early 20th century was unearthed during the course of this research. Moffet notes the members of the Lancaster & District Referees‟ Society (L&DRS) (later Lancaster and Morecambe RS): “[s]tunned the football world of North Lancashire by going on strike” (Moffet, 1981, 43). The strike was apparently called because the North Lancashire league had refused to make referees on its list join Lancaster & District RS, as the L&DRS had requested, and to make membership a condition of entry to the referees list. In March 1937, L&DRS members refused to accept North Lancashire appointments, although all of the matches were actually covered (The Lancaster Guardian, 12/3/1937 in Moffet, 1981, 43). The referees were „back to work‟ by April 2nd 1937 (Moffet, 1981, 43). The national RA minutes from this period are missing, so it is not known how the strike was viewed by RA members, although one might hazard a guess that they did not support such actions. Despite frequent grievances being recorded in the minutes of many of the local referees‟ organisations, I have not come across any other suggestion that referees might

185 have attempted to make some gains by going on strike during this period13. Given the organisation‟s name – i.e., The Referees‟ Union - and the repeated signs of dissatisfaction in the minutes, this is an interesting aspect of the RU‟s history. The experience of the PFA members in 1909 is likely to have disabused any „radical‟ RU members of thoughts of strike action, if such members existed. The PFA, formed in 1907, had:

resolved to affiliate to the Federation of Trade Unionists but this was fiercely opposed by the League, who were clearly afraid that, with the trade union movement behind them, the players might force up wages and breach the dam against full- blown commercialism... A threatened strike ... was broken when the League suspended union officials and signed up amateur black-legs. The Union seceded from the FTU and the retain-and-transfer system continued to receive the support of the courts (Wagg, 1984, 11).

There are, however, other important factors which go some way to explaining why the RU constitution never embodied the principle of taking strike action. As the evidence cited in Chapter Five indicates, referees at the turn of the century appear to have been, in general, middle class. A reluctance to take „militant‟ action – something which members of the working class were increasingly willing to do – is perhaps further supporting evidence for this claim. Probably more important is the presence of FA and Football League personnel on the RU Council: they would hardly have encouraged their members to boycott FA and/or League fixtures. Sutcliffe in particular was strongly opposed to the principle of strike action, vehemently scorning the PFA‟s threatened strike (see Mason, 1980, 112-113). Once again, these issues are returned to later, but for now the aims of the RU are explored in more depth.

To Improve As Far As Possible The Standard Of Refereeing.

Having identified the improvement of the standard of refereeing “as far as possible” as one of the RU‟s aims, this aspect of the organisation‟s remit

186 appears to have been devolved to local level. There are occasional references to „refereeing practice‟ and related issues in the national organisation‟s records. For example at the annual conference a presentation on “a method of signalling between referees and linesmen” was given, “and the executive were asked to get their members to embody the principle where possible” (22/5/09). Questions over alterations to The Laws were raised and forwarded to the FA (for example RU minutes, 31/08/12), but as a rule local societies dealt with such issues14. From 1913, the RU was better able to communicate with its members about issues relating to the Laws of the Game. Articles appeared in The Football Referee, a „journal‟ issued by the RU every month throughout the season from September 1913. The journal was not a financial success and was often „bailed out‟ by Sutcliffe (See, for example RU minutes, 9/5/1914 and The Football Referee, No. 2, October 1913, 7 and No. 8, April 1914, 7).

Like many aspects of football‟s development, the training and instruction of referees appears to have been fairly haphazard and subject to local variation long after the RU was established. In other words, there is no evidence that a structured, formal approach to this aspect of the RU/RA remit was developed for many years. In 1950, Rous, by then 16 years into his tenure as FA secretary, wrote to the RA suggesting the organisation “should arrange for a programme of intensive work in order to further improve the standard of refereeing” (RA minutes, 5/5/50). The RA response indicates that, even then, the national body had little conception of what local organisations were doing: “the President proffered the suggestion that if it were possible to obtain the programmes arranged by the societies the amount of solid educational work being done could be measured” (RA minutes, 5/5/50). The RA „solution‟ was to endeavour to: “arrange joint meetings of societies to be addressed by a member of the Football Association Staff” and “to urge Societies ... to devote the major part of the time at their disposal to matters of educational value” (RA minutes, 5/5/50). The absence of a national „policy‟

187 is, as with the FA‟s initial development, an indication of the difficulties faced by a relatively small and financially constrained organisation, run by volunteers, endeavouring to co-ordinate the activities of disparate local groups. Again, the implications of these issues are explored in a little more depth below.

Despite the lack of a national policy, it should be noted that the RU and its affiliated societies appear to have been the only organisations actually doing any „training‟. Whilst county FAs had, as noted, been responsible for registering and „examining‟ referees since 1901, there is little evidence to suggest that their members, or the national FA, had any broader ambitions other than to pass or fail candidates. The first mention in the Sheffield & District RA minutes of any training from the county FA comes in 1945, when the Sheffield & Hallam CFA arrangements for “a course of instruction for referees” were announced (S&DRA minutes, 10/1/45). Having explored the way the RU attempted to fulfil its objectives in relation to the education of officials, the next section examines its efforts to „protect‟ referees from „injustice‟.

To Protect The Members From Injustice : Assaults

Prior to discussing the evidence on the assaults on referees it should be noted that the purpose here has not been to analyse the „extent‟ of the problem, or to establish whether incidents of attacks on officials increased or decreased during the course of the 20th century. This is partly a consequence of time constraints, for a detailed, systematic examination of local and national papers would be necessary in order to begin to establish reliable figures, which is beyond the scope of this project. Further, as members of the RA noted in relation to assaults as late as 1971, “there was ... seemingly much conjecture, and little documented evidence” (RA Minutes, 11/12/1971). This assessment, something echoed by Hay (1999, 30) in his research into Australian officiating, applies both prior to this statement and since.15 It is, by now, perhaps

188 unnecessary to point this out, but this is another aspect of the social history of refereeing which will provide researchers with potentially fruitful avenues of investigation in the future.

In the following analysis, the focus is not, then, on the number or frequency of attacks, but on the way that such issues were addressed by RU members and other football personnel. For, we have already established that relatively soon after third parties were introduced to oversee games, they were the subject of physical and verbal attacks. Undoubtedly, such attacks were a motivating factor for those who formed the RU and who immediately established the principles to “protect the members from injustice” and to “assist or take action by or on behalf of any referee unfairly or unjustly treated”. The evidence from the national RU, various local associations and contemporary press reports, discussed below, indicates that attacks on referees continued into the 20th century and were a source of concern for RU and local association members.

The RU were advised by the FA to take action on behalf of attacked referees “if the members were of opinion that the case was serious enough to warrant that course” (RU minutes, 20/1/11). The following example from a Football League game gives an example of what referees might experience:

A scene of some commotion followed the end of the Notts County and Birmingham ... [game] in the league championship... The crowd pelted the referee Mr A. E. Farrants of Bristol, with mud, and it was only by the efforts of a considerable body of police that he was saved from actual violence. The crowd had regarded his decisions with great disfavour (The Times, 11/2/07, 11).

„Serious assaults‟ either by players or spectators resulting in prosecutions appear to have been occasional rather than frequent occurrences16 but, based on limited evidence, this conclusion remains tentative. Whilst the FA‟s „legislation‟ on assaults referred to in Chapter Five was concerned with spectator assaults, attacks by players on referees had become an issue for the

189 RU. Local branches affiliated to the RU took up cases on behalf of referees, such as the following:

Another player has been before the magistrates through assaulting a referee, and it has resulted in James Bourne ... finding himself in the uncomfortable position of being fined 10- and costs or serving fourteen days‟ imprisonment. He was playing in a match ... and Referee Herbert Land found it necessary to order him from the field for striking another player. The matter duly came up for consideration before a commission, and Bourne was suspended. On the way home, Bourne struck Mr Land, and the subsequent proceedings were taken by the Heavy Woollen branch of the Referees‟ Union (The Football Referee, no. 5, Jan. 1914, 5).

Signs of dissatisfaction from RU members over a perceived lack of support for assaulted officials from local FAs are apparent from the early 20th century. For example „A Northern member‟ noted the case of a Derbyshire referee:

One of [the Derbyshire FA] members was recently assaulted by a spectator, and, not unnaturally, the referee applied for protection to his County Association ... the body which yearly accepts from him a fee for registration. After inquiry the committee decided that the referee was at fault and had not made out his case. They refused to prosecute the spectator, and to emphasize their views on the matter they struck the referee off the list. That official, however, disappointed at not getting the support he desired from his Association, took proceedings himself, with the result that he secured a conviction, the magistrates apparently being convinced that he had a case („A Northern member‟, 1914, 8).

The writer expressed concern that the lack of support for referees would do little to discourage supporters from attacking referees:

it is becoming more obvious every day that various governing bodies have little inclination to take up [the referees‟] cause ... what the attitude of crowds, already spoiling for a bit of horse- play, if they know the Associations will not take any action? („A Northern member‟, 1914, 8).

190 It seems that the reaction of local FAs to such incidents varied from county to county, again an apparently enduring feature throughout the 20th century17. Given the potential costs of legal action, however, there may have been a general reluctance for FAs to pursue prosecutions. Certainly RU members were constrained by limited financial resources, as well as by the RU‟s limited constitution. As a consequence, the RU did not always come to the aid of assaulted referees in its membership. In 1920, for example, the Aylesbury [Referees‟] Society applied for a contribution from the RU towards the costs a referee incurred in extracting an apology in “local papers” from a player who had assaulted him. The RU carried the motion that “the account be not entertained as the procedure was contrary to our rules” (RU minutes, 10/02/1920). Some county FAs did take action on behalf of their referees. Moffet, for example, cites a case from 1921 when the Lancashire FA (LFA) pursued the prosecution of a club secretary. The secretary had been acting as linesman in a game involving his own side when he hit the referee who had awarded a goal to the opposition side (The Lancaster Guardian, 28/5/1921, in Moffet, 1981, 17-18)18. Again, the concerns of the LFA centred around the potential impact of such incidents on refereeing standards:

The [Lancashire FA] took the view that these assaults must be stopped, if officials were to be any good, with all the rigour that was necessary ... [officials] should be protected while carrying out their duties (in The Lancaster Guardian, 28/5/1921, cited by Moffet, 1981, 18-19).

There is evidence that the over-involvement of club linesmen continued to cause difficulties for referees, as Moffet (1981, 17) notes several subsequent incidents of „over-involved‟ linesmen threatening referees reported in The Lancaster Guardian in the early 1920s19. There is evidence, too, that members of the RU perceived a lack of support for referees at a national level, a point explored in detail below.

191 The Identification of Referees as the ‘Cause’ of Spectator Disorder The Football League‟s decision to make it compulsory for club secretaries to report on referees in 1920 after “many recent disturbances all over the country” was seen to imply that referees were the „problem‟ and the cause of such disorder:

„We feel that in view of many recent disturbances all over the country & the fact that secs. of clubs have always reported (confidentially) on referees to the governing bodies, & that the various Commissions who have tried these cases have condemned the action of spectators, we think that the Football League‟s action in publicly asking secs. to do as they have previously done tends to throw the responsibility of such disturbances on the official in charge‟. A lengthy discussion took place, in which the general impression was in opposition to the action of the League. The fact was that the clubs already had the power (RU minutes, 10/02/1920).

Like many of the issues addressed by the RU, the organisation‟s opposition to such a policy was clearly ineffective, for club reports remain in place in the contemporary game. The implications of requiring highly involved individuals (club secretaries) to report on referees are interesting to consider, particularly in relation to spectator disorder. It seems likely that, given the potential threat of ground closure, it would be in the interest of involved clubs to locate the cause of the problem with the referee. Copies of reports from this period have, to date, not been unearthed. But, it is likely that any criticisms of referees by the relatively powerful „elite‟ clubs in the Football League would have contributed to the perception of refereeing as „a problem‟. Such an understanding is apparent in one account by a highly influential FA member. Pickford questioned whether it was “wise to send a referee at once to a ground on which, as a result of a decision of his the previous week or so, there had been a riot among the spectators, a scene among the players, or a row with the officials” (1906b, 174). He suggested that to do so “would be a direct incitement to trouble” and asked:

192 Why should a referee, whose presence is distasteful, be forced down the throats of a club? Is it not wiser to allow time to heal up old sores and restore confidence between spectators, players, and referees? (Pickford 1906b, 174).

What is striking about this account is that Pickford‟s motivations appear to be more about avoiding crowd “trouble” than about protecting referees. In contemporary terms, such a policy could be described as something of a knee- jerk reaction. Pickford‟s account also provides an early and revealing example of the kind of thinking common in the contemporary game, which implies that referees operate in a vacuum. In other words, it fails to take into account the network of relationships of which referees were (and are) a part and within which they had (and have) to make their decisions. For, imagining the type of scenario to which Pickford is referring, it is likely that a referee‟s “distasteful” decision – perhaps to send a player off – would be precipitated by the „unlawful‟ actions of a player. In this example, the suggestion that the referee should not subsequently be appointed to oversee games at the player‟s club conveys the message that the referee, rather than the player contravening the Laws of the Game, was at fault. Likewise, the spectators‟ “riot”, the players‟ “scenes” and the club officials‟ “rows” in response to refereeing decisions could, in effect, have had an impact on who was appointed to oversee their future games and, potentially, on how referees approached such fixtures.

Consideration of the potential consequences of such a policy for those interested in The Laws being adhered to offers more insights into how and why refereeing problems have evolved. For if referees were aware that “distasteful” decisions, such as penalties and sendings off, could affect their subsequent appointments, they may have been reluctant to apply The Laws as stringently as they „should‟ have done. In turn, a tendency towards „permissive‟ refereeing could have led to a higher tolerance of offences and violent conduct than the game‟s administrators intended or wanted. An understanding of the power relationships between those watching, playing,

193 overseeing and administering the game is, then, also illuminated by this example. For, it is possible to see how such a policy could have effectively shifted the power balances between these groups in favour of those playing and, to some extent, watching the game. Again, the ways that these dynamic relationships have shifted over time will be explored further in later chapters.

It important to bear in mind, however, that this relatively early example gives us a good indication of the ways that football administrators have tended to „react‟ to problems without necessarily having a clear conception of the underlying causes of the problems they are trying to address (Elias, 1987d). Indeed, at this stage, there is no indication that the FA members were interested in investigating the causes of assaults on referees, merely that they wanted to prevent trouble. The reasons for this may partly relate to the relative lack of sophistication of the FA at the turn of the century. Similarly, the potential costs of investigating such issues may have constrained their activities. And, perhaps the relatively powerful Football League club secretaries constrained FA members, leading them to sanction a policy of avoiding „contentious‟ refereeing appointments which they might otherwise have objected to in principle.

Whatever the reasons, it seems likely that such reactive policies might have resulted in a number of unintended consequences. In this case, this policy may have resulted in permissive refereeing and a higher degree of tolerance for violent conduct. It may also have undermined the status and credibility of officials. It might have led players, fans and club personnel to conclude that, by protesting about refereeing, they might influence „how‟ referees refereed. All of these potential unintended consequences would actually contradict the aims of those administering the game and implementing policy. Below, the way other aspects of FA policy impacted on referees are considered. Again, the RU minutes are used here to provide insights about the organisation‟s

194 response to specific incidents, and its members‟ relative lack of success in challenging policies they disagreed with.

As noted in Chapter Five, the early years of the FA and Football League were characterised by a tendency not to countenance criticisms of match officials. Having established that this situation had changed by the 1890s, this section explores further evidence of the shift in attitude towards officials in the early 20th century. Most notable in this context is the application of „disciplinary procedures‟, which previously only applied to players, to referees. In other words, the Football League management committee and the FA began to fine and suspend officials. By the early 1900s, players who had been sent off were usually suspended for one month, during which “no wages could be paid” to them (Vamplew, 1988, 260). The evidence discussed below suggests that for referees, such punishments were initially not made public but, by at least 1907, this „policy‟ had changed. Punishments were apparently applied to referees at the highest level. For example, in an article headlined „League Management Committee: Cup Final referee fined‟, it was reported that:

Mr Nathaniel Whittaker, who is the referee appointed to officiate in the [FA Cup] Final-tie to-morrow, was fined one guinea for being twelve minutes late at Leicester on March 30th. He wrote explaining he was on the right train, but forgot to change at the right place (Sheffield Daily Telegraph, 20/4/1907, in Tyler, 1981, 57).

As well as punishments for „off the field‟ incidents, such as tardiness, the FA and Football League had also begun to suspend referees who were seen to be „failing‟ in their duties on the pitch. One of Alcock‟s last duties before his retirement as FA secretary had been to sit on the committee considering a West Ham United v Millwall match on 17/9/06. This game was “not contested in a friendly spirit, the play on the whole was far too vigorous, and there were too many fouls which were unchecked” (FA minutes, in Booth, 2002, 231). The committee also ruled that the game had not been “properly controlled by the referee”. As a consequence:

195

One player was suspended for fourteen days, the referee for the remainder of the season, the players of both teams were censured and both Clubs severely censured for not having reported matters to the Football Association (Booth, 2002, 231).

What is striking about this example is that the referee was more severely censured than the players involved. It is not clear why this should be the case, but it might be an example of the FA attempting to „set an example‟ to other „lenient‟ referees. Vamplew notes that there were 54 complaints about Football League referees in 1912/13, but that only 1 referee was suspended by the LMC which would suggest that, in general, referees were still relatively well supported. However, The FA‟s policy of suspending referees became a particularly significant issue for RU members in 1913 when the FA Cup Final referee, Arthur Adams, was suspended. This example is discussed in detail below, for it provides a useful „case study‟ to demonstrate the way a number interrelated issues were „played out‟. In particular, it sheds light on the problematic relationship between the RU and the FA and highlights the lack of unity within the RU as a national organisation.

The FA Cup Final between Aston Villa and Sunderland (won 1-0 by Villa) was attended by over 120, 000 supporters, one of whom was the FA Councillor, F. Lockwood. He subsequently “called attention to incidents which occurred in the game and also to the control of the game by the referee” at the FA Council meeting on 5th July 1913 20.At the meeting:

The Council decided that the referee, Mr A Adams, and the players C. Thompson (Sunderland) and H. Hampton (Aston Villa) be suspended during the month of September, 1913, from taking any part in football (FA minutes, 5/7/1913).

It is not possible to really know „how‟ the final was played, or the nature of incidents that Lockwood objected to. Contemporary newspaper reports on the game can give us some insight, but, as always, some caveats have to be placed around the relative accuracy of such accounts. For, like all historical sources,

196 the sensibilities of those who wrote them will have shaped „what‟ was reported and „how‟ it was reported. Thus The Daily Mirror (in Tyler, 1981, 64) headlined their report, “Record crowd sees a thrilling match” which, it was suggested, “lived up to its billing”, whilst The Times report on the game might be describing a different match. The game was “merely good in parts” and:

what was chiefly to be regretted was the ill-feeling which expressed itself in countless acts utterly unworthy of sportsmen. One of the Sunderland half-backs was the most frequent offender: it was not his fault that the robust Hampton, whose onslaughts were robust but never unfair, did not leave the ground on a stretcher. But there was little to choose between the two sides in this respect: Aston Villa did not succeed in living up to their historic reputation for playing a clean and sportsmanlike game. It is a grave pity that the most popular match of the year should be apt to supply the crowd with so many object-lessons in the tactics of foul play and ill conditioned manners (The Times, 21/4/1913, 12).

Clearly Lockwood did not share The Times reporter‟s view that Hampton‟s “onslaughts were robust but never unfair”21. Similarly, Adams‟s performance was not questioned by the players or the clubs through an appeal. Again, this would seem to offer further evidence that they too had a different view from the FA about the acceptable levels of violence in the game. The precise reasons for suspending Adams and the processes through which that decision was reached are not recorded in the FA minutes. But it is likely that the FA members‟ decision to take action relates to the high profile nature of the game - “the most popular match of the year”. The FA correspondence with the RU certainly hints that this was a factor, for FA members stated: “[t]here was a general consensus of opinion that the last Final Tie, as regards the play & its incidents, was the worst conducted since the institution of the competition” (in RU minutes, 22/10/1913). This latter claim is of course open to question and, in particular, one wonders how anyone was able to arrive at such a conclusion given the absence of any procedures to evaluate the way games

197 were played or refereed. Certainly newspaper reports on previous finals, discussed later in this chapter, suggest that it is not entirely accurate.

But what is significant here is that the FA members were apparently moved to act because of this perception. As discussed in Chapter Five, some journalists and writers on the game had, by now, identified a „refereeing problem‟ and were critical of referees in print. In this context, it seems possible that, in part, members of the FA felt under pressure to act because of increasing criticism in the print media. Their decision to suspend Adams appears to have been an ad hoc, even „knee jerk‟, reaction with little or no consideration of long term consequences for the perception of referees and refereeing standards. Sutcliffe, however, was alive to the potential broader implications:

The suspension of a referee does not merely mean a month‟s rest and the loss of a month‟s fees: it means his degradation in the eyes of players and public, the shaking of public confidence, and the loss of enthusiasm and heart on the part of the referee (Sutcliffe, 1913, 9).

These issues remain pertinent in the contemporary game and as such are returned to in later chapters. At this stage, it is important to note that the FA‟s actions and their failure to consider the type of potential consequences outlined by Sutcliffe are symptomatic of the way refereeing issues have often been approached. In particular, they reveal a tendency towards short term thinking. Refereeing „problems‟ are seen as isolated incidents, as „one offs‟ rather than as the outcome of long term social processes. Adams‟s performance „happened‟ to be seen by a member of the FA council22 who felt he had failed to apply the Laws of the Game stringently enough. But without any „systematic‟ observation of officials during this period, any such suspensions were sporadic and dependent on an FA official being present. So, in common with other aspects of the game‟s administration, this action was not part of any long term, considered „policy‟. Given that this example and the previously cited case involving Whittaker both involved Cup Final referees, it

198 might be argued that the FA punished relatively high profile individuals in an effort to „set the tone‟ and demonstrate their increasing authority.

Initially, RU members placed “on record their emphatic protest” (RU minutes, 12/7/13) over Adams‟s suspension. Under the guidance of their new President, Catton23, the RU executive set down their objections in a resolution, “unanimously carried”, and forwarded them to the FA. Numerous concerns were voiced, among them the suggestion that Adams had not had the chance to defend himself, “regret” that the referee and players had been punished equally and that the suspension had been made public (RU Minutes, 12/7/13). The FA sought to end the debate on the Adams case when Adams announced his decision to resign from the Football League list of referees. The League Management Committee, of which Sutcliffe was a member “deeply regret[ed] that he ... felt compelled to take such a course, and earnestly hope[d] that he [would] reconsider” (The Times, 9/8/13, 15). But for the FA Council, Adams‟s resignation meant “further consideration of his case becomes unnecessary” (FA correspondence, December 18th 1913, in RU minutes, 27/3/14). The RU took a somewhat broader view, however, and continued to petition the FA over the „principle‟ of referees‟ suspensions. The RU executive felt that the decision “might well be reviewed and revised by the council” for 11 reasons. These are outlined and discussed in turn below, alongside the FA response where relevant.

A number of the objections involved a „defence‟ of Adams‟s character and ability: 1. Mr Adams was selected by the Council because of his ability & fitness. 2. His tact & judgement in difficult situations have won universal commendation. 3. In common with the 120,000 who journeyed to the Palace he naturally expected a clean exposition of scientific football. 4. On the spot he is the best judge of the incidents of the game. 5. No doubt has ever been cast on the honour or truthfulness of Mr Adams either as a referee or a gentlemen.

199

Although these objections were „personal‟ to Adams, the RU‟s complaints raise more general and enduring issues. Once again, the notion of the players not „sharing‟ the understanding that the game should be played in a particular way – “a clean exposition of scientific football” is identified as a problem for referees. But the suspension of Adams implies that the FA had shifted responsibility for ensuring that players played in the „right‟ way firmly in the direction of referees. That is not to say that they did not attempt to affect the behaviour of players and clubs over this issue during this period. For example in 1922, the FA:

despatched a long circular to all directors and officials of all clubs demanding that they should do all in their power to advise their players and see that they played the game with the fullest respect and due observance of the Laws of the Game, and that they should refuse to engage players who were known to be guilty of foul tactics (in Green, 1953, 344).

Both the suspension of referees and the above circular to clubs reveal the way that the FA was attempting to gain control over the highly complex football network (Elias, 1978, 153-54). These measures are aspects of the long term, ongoing power struggles between members of the football network to achieve consensus on the way the game should be played and refereed. In a sense, that the FA was in a position to impose such suspensions on referees is an indication of the organisation‟s growing authority over referees. The FA response to the RU complaint gives a sense of their relative power:

The Council has always supported referees in the performance of their duties, & when there is dereliction of such duties reserves to itself freedom to deal with the same in the manner which may be deemed most desirable in the interests of the game (FA letter, December 18th, 1913, in RU Minutes, 27/3/14).

The FA, by now, clearly „reserved the right‟ to penalise referees for any failure to apply The Laws in line with the FA view on how the game should be

200 played. In this sense, their action in suspending Adams and the RU complaints bring to the fore problems related to the interpretation of The Laws. For the notion of Adams being the “best judge” of incidents is undermined by his subsequent suspension. This was not an entirely new issue, for as discussed in Chapter Five, the appeal process had been in place since at least the early 1890s24. Whilst referees‟ decisions were (and are) „final‟ during the game, that finality did (and does) not always extend beyond it. In other words, players had (and have) the right to appeal against sendings off, and the FA may rescind red card decisions. In this sense the concept of the referee‟s decision being final does not, then, capture the reality of the post match process.

But the „questioning‟ of Adams‟s judgement which the FA council suspension represented, undermined this notion still further. For, rather than a single, specific decision of „fact‟ being overturned after the match (such as a sending off), like the Football League, the FA appear to have broadened their remit to include the general „performances‟ of referees. Again, this shift is an aspect of a long term process, the beginnings of which were outlined in Chapter Five. There, it was argued that the instructions to referees issued through the RA (London) in 1896 placed increasing constraints on referees in terms of how they „should‟ or „must‟ referee. The introduction of punitive measures designed to punish referees for failing to adhere to these instructions is, then, evidence of a tightening of those constraints. But how effective such measures were in an age when there was no formal observation of referees is, again, open to question. In this sense, the suspensions of referees can perhaps best be understood as „sporadic displays of authority‟ by the FA.

The „Adams case‟ also brings to light evidence of the divisions between the RU and the FA. Amongst their objections, RU members suggested:

6. Few members of the Council know the difficulties of the referee, but every member knows the common practice of

201 players to aggravate offences against their opponents and minimise their own (RU minutes, 12/7/13). and: 9. The delay in dealing with the matter has been unreasonable and unjustifiable. 10. The punishment of anxiety, if Mr Adams were at fault, has been more than ample for the offence. If he were not at fault, it is distinctly cruel (RU minutes, 12/7/13).

Whilst The FA suggested that “many members of the council have had considerable experience of refereeing” (FA correspondence, in RU minutes, 22/10/1913), Catton argued “their experience has not taught them sympathy” (1913, 9). The proportion of the 54 members present when Adams was suspended who had officiated does seem to have been relatively small. The data indicate that seven members were or had been prominent officials25, although further investigation could well lead to this figure being revised. But the RU complaint points to the fact that the FA was no longer dominated by referees, as it had been in its early years. The sense in which RU members felt they lacked a „voice‟ at the FA is evident in their efforts to gain direct representation on the FA council. This issue was first raised in 1912 (RU minutes, 8/06/1912) and has remained a bone of contention for RU members26, for the RA still does not have direct representation on the FA Council27. There is an element of irony, however, in the RU objection, for a number of those referees who were at the meeting were closely connected to the RU. Pickford was RU treasurer, Clegg, Crump, and Lewis had all been invited to become RU patrons28 (RU minutes, 30/5/08) and Hines was a divisional representative. And, there is evidence that Hines objected to Adams‟s suspension, but that his reservations were tempered by the way the RU had approached the issue:

Mr Hines was called upon, & after saying he believed a mistake had been made with regard to Mr Adams, criticised severely the actions of several writers connected with the Union, which brought a brilliant and vigorous reply in defence from our president (RU minutes, 22/10/1913).

202 Hines‟s comments probably relate in particular to the work of the RU‟s immediate past president, Sutcliffe. He had, for example, voiced his criticisms in The Football Referee a month previously:

I maintain that The FA Council has been guilty of the biggest blunder it has ever been guilty of. … Every step taken by The FA Council seems to add blunder to blunder. The Council stultified its own selection, sat in judgement on its own judgement, [and] rushed into print with its decision (Sutcliffe, 1913, 8).

It is of course impossible to „measure‟ the effect of such criticism, but it is safe to conclude that it harmed rather than furthered the RU‟s cause. The personalised and vociferous reproach of the FA Council evident in the above extract and, to some extent, in the initial RU „objections‟ cited above is, at the least, likely to have widened the divisions between the two organisations. And the „war of words‟ may well have had longer term implications, in relation to the damage done to the credibility of the RU as an organisation. Such a possibility appears not to have occurred to RU members and, in this sense, they too appear to have indulged in short term thinking and decision making. In the midst of their ongoing argument with the FA Council over the Adams case, RU members somewhat insensitively “decided to ask the FA if anything further had been done with regard to the suggestion that the referee in the Final Tie should receive a medal instead of a fee” (RU minutes, 22/10/1913). It is not surprising that it was a further 8 years before the FA acceded to this request (RU Annual Report, 1920-21).

Once again, whilst the shortcomings of the RU members‟ modus operandi are readily apparent in a retrospective analysis, such issues have to be contextualised. The RU was in its infancy and, in contrast, the remit and authority of the Football Association had gradually increased over the first 50 years of its existence, particularly in relation to referees. It had become a sophisticated and relatively powerful organisation, overseeing all aspects of

203 national and international football and, through its affiliated county associations, the „grassroots‟ game. In contrast, the RU was entirely reliant on volunteers, who, as discussed below, were sometimes in disagreement with the overall policies and approach of the national body. And, perhaps most significantly, the complex refereeing issues its members were trying to address have continued to vex the game‟s administrators into the 21st century. Once more, these issues are returned to in later chapters, but for now other aspects of the „Adams case‟ merit discussion.

Another key aspect of the RU objections to the FA council concerned the issue of „how‟ the prestigious Cup Final was „meant‟ to be refereed. The RU members argued:

7. Not a single individual at the Palace grounds would like to see a player sent off. 8. There is an unwritten law or general understanding that in representative games and Cup Finals the game should not be discredited in the eyes of the elite who are not conversant with the game and football law (RU minutes, 12/7/13).

The members of the FA council clearly did not share such an understanding. Noting that “Mr Adams makes no such excuse”, they claimed that the RU view was ”a myth, & unheard of before the receipt of this letter” and suggested “[i]f there are members of the Referees Union who have failed in their duty by observing this fiction, they will act wisely if they discontinue this practice” (in RU minutes, 22/10/1913). The RU‟s „mistaken‟ assumptions were also criticised by members of one affiliated local association. The Colchester Referees Association informed the RU that:

the members of this Association ... regret that paragraphs 7 & 8 should have been embodied in the resolution sent to the FA, and which has, in the opinion of this Association, given the FA an opportunity to hold the Union up to ridicule (RU minutes, 27/3/14).

204 Although this is the only example of a local association registering displeasure over the handling of the Adams case in the RU minutes, it is possible that other local bodies shared these reservations. In this sense, the Colchester RA complaint highlights the problems faced by the national body in trying to represent and maintain the support of its constituent local associations. For, whilst the RU was set up to protect and promote the interests of referees, as this example demonstrates, those referees were not a united group, all sharing the same ideas and beliefs. At best, local association membership of the national body represented a shared belief in, and a commitment to, the organisation‟s central aims. But it did not, in practice, follow that local organisations or individual members shared the same views about how the RU might achieve those aims. And in particular, the way the RU leadership conducted themselves might well have estranged members of their own organisation. Again, these issues are returned to later in this chapter.

Despite the FA disabusing RU members of their „mythical‟ belief about sending players off in the Cup Final, it is worth considering how they might have come to such a conclusion in the first place. In other words, exploring this issue developmentally can help us to understand how this particular „problem‟ emerged (Elias, 1994, pp. 513-15). The 1913 final was the 42nd in the competition‟s history and no player had ever been sent off in a final tie. Indeed, it was not until 1985, the 104th final, that Kevin Moran became the first player to be dismissed in the Cup Final when he was sent off by Peter Willis – who later became RA president. It is hard to imagine that in the finals preceding 1913 (or those until 1985), no player committed a foul which merited a sending off. Certainly, as noted earlier, newspaper reports on previous finals suggest otherwise. For example, The Daily Mirror report on the 1910 final replay suggested:

205 [The] crowd [were] indignant at methods adopted [by Newcastle] against Barnsley... When Downs, who had been badly lamed in the first half, was lifted off his feet by a kick in the abdomen ... the foul play reached its climax, and the offender should without a moment‟s hesitation have been ordered off the field; but the penalty of a free kick was all that was given against Newcastle... Quite early on Higgins laid out Mearns rather badly, and when the Barnsley goalkeeper recovered he broke from the players who were supporting him and ran with clenched fists at Higgins, but was forcibly held back by the referee and Downs, his clubmate (April 29th, 1910, in Tyler, 1981, 60).

It is then quite possible that Adams, like other Cup Final referees before him, had developed an „understanding‟ that he should not send players off in what was then the most important game in the football calendar. Likewise, despite the penalty kick being introduced in the 1891-92 season, it was some 19 Cup Finals later (in fact 22 games including replays) in 1910, before the first penalty was awarded in the final tie. Interestingly, Adams did award a penalty to Aston Villa in the 1913 final29 but it seems that, in general, referees were reluctant to take such „strong action‟. The fact that the FA had, apparently, not previously censured or taken punitive action against Cup Final referees must have contributed to the perception or understanding that a relatively lenient approach was appropriate on such a „big occasion‟. Reflecting on his experience of refereeing a Cup Final in 1934, suggested, “[t]here was of course a tradition that no one was sent off in a Cup Final, but this was as much due to the players‟ sense of occasion as to any leniency in the refereeing” (1979, 33). In the absence of clear policy, directives or guidance for referees it is not surprising that Adams should have been reluctant to challenge what had become „received wisdom‟ by sending a player off. Once more the game‟s administrators were reacting to events, apparently devising policy „on the hoof‟. And, given that it was another 72 years before a Cup Final referee finally broke with convention, it might reasonably be argued that the suspension of Adams did little to challenge Cup Final referees‟ general „philosophy‟30.

206

Again, this example illuminates the complex power relationships between those devising The Laws, those implementing them and those playing the game. For, despite the FA‟s „demonstration of authority‟ in punishing Adams, the administrative body did not have the power to ensure that other referees complied with their interpretation of the Laws of the Game. In part, The FA members were themselves constrained by the absence of systems of observation. They had no way of assessing how widely their view on the way games should be played and refereed was accepted and „implemented‟ by referees. Perhaps most pertinently, these issues point to the way in which the FA struggled to achieve control over the highly complex football network. As I shall go on to discuss in subsequent chapters, despite having become established as a relatively powerful organisation, the FA members have never been able to „completely‟ constrain referees to act in the way they want them to – or indeed to get players to play the game in the way they want them to.

Indeed, there is a sense in which the publication of the decision to suspend Adams was itself an effect of the constraints on the FA. The RU argued:

11. We understood some time ago that the publication of referees‟ suspensions had ceased (RU minutes, 12/7/13).

However, whilst Hines, the FA Councillor and RU divisional representative, “agreed that suspensions should not be published” he suggested, “The FA had tried it and found themselves defeated” (The Football Referee, No. 3, November 1913, 11). This rather oblique reference makes it difficult to establish „who‟ defeated them, but pressure to reveal such decisions probably came from club officials or, indeed, members of the press. Whatever the cause, The FA response indicates that council members felt they had to „demonstrate‟ that they had authority over referees and the way the game was overseen:

207 If, as suggested in the letter, a private communication had been sent to the referee the public would have been left in ignorance, & in the belief that no action had been taken (FA correspondence, in RU minutes, 22/10/1913).

The FA remained unmoved by the RU objections and, in the face of such opposition, the RU campaign over the „Adams case‟ petered out towards what was, for RU members, an unsatisfactory conclusion. The RU members‟ remaining action was to record “the manner in which the FA had avoided the question of principle” in the annual report of the Union (RU minutes, 27/3/1914). The RU‟s first real „challenge‟ to the FA had rendered the FA largely unscathed and left RU members ruminating on their lack of influence over the game‟s governing body. In the final section of this chapter, I bring together some of the issues previously noted in order to assess the reasons for the RU‟s limited success in achieving its aims.

The most significant reason for the RU‟s limited success was its lack of power in relation to the FA. For the RU to have made more progress towards achieving its aims would have required the support and cooperation of the FA. But whilst the RU‟s aims - to protect referees and to improve the standard of refereeing - would seem to be central to the FA project of protecting the „good of the game‟, from the outset the RU appears to have received limited FA support. Given the lack of evidence on relations between the two bodies, it is difficult to understand why this situation arose. One possible explanation is that FA members were averse to the idea of a separate body such as the RU exerting influence over an aspect of the game which they considered to be within their remit and authority. The FA councillor, Hines, seems to be implying this in his suggestion that: “[T]here had been some misunderstanding about the Referees‟ Union, but all that was claimed for that body referees could get from their own association [i.e., The FA]” (Anon, 1913, 11). Perhaps the fact that the RU was headed at the outset by Sutcliffe, who was closely involved with the Football League, led FA members to see

208 the organisation as a potential threat to FA authority. In other words, Sutcliffe‟s dual role as RU President and Football League Management Committee member may have had the unforeseen consequence of rendering the FA unwilling to support the RU.

Whatever the reasons for the FA‟s initial reluctance to help the RU achieve its aims, it is likely that the way the Adams case was handled by the RU leadership did more lasting damage. As suggested, both Sutcliffe and Catton were outspoken in their criticisms of the FA, which had by then established sufficient authority to mean it was not undermined by such assaults. Rather than attempting to negotiate with the FA, the RU approach became characterised by confrontation. It is perhaps not surprising then that Catton observed, “immediately [the RU] became active they were accused of being defiant and flouting the authorities” (Anon, 1913, 11). Although Catton‟s “brilliant defence” of the Union was “frequently applauded” within the RU, the reception was clearly less positive outside the organisation. And whilst he was “prepared to stand or fall by his opinion, even if it cost him all the football friends he had” (Anon, 1913, 11), this attitude was not conducive to fostering good relations with other more powerful organisations. Again, it is possible to critique this approach in retrospect, but given that in the five years preceding the Adams case the FA had shown limited support for the RU, it is perhaps understandable that its leaders became frustrated and resorted to criticising the FA in print.

After the break in activities due to World War I, the post war decision to reorganise and rename the Union „The Referees‟ Association‟ in 1921-22 may have been an effort to achieve further „distance‟ from past events – although the proposals and reasons for change are not actually recorded in the minutes. But the legacy of the RU handling of the Adams‟s case seems to have lingered through the 1920s. In 1929, the RA honourable secretary suggested: “those in authority were beginning to realise that the RA were not the Communist

209 Party of the football world” (RA minutes, 22/6/1929). Given the generally conservative approach adopted by the RA throughout this period, it is hard to imagine how else the organisation might have achieved such a reputation other than its dealings with the Adams case.

In general, the RU also appears to have been constrained by internal divisions. Again, the RU approach to the Adams case appears to have done little to endear the organisation to other referees. Catton, for example, was “surprised” to see some remarks by his “old friend Mr John Lewis” which suggested the RU was “going a little beyond „common decency‟ in their attacks upon The FA” (Catton, 1913, 9). On his retirement Sutcliffe suggested the RU “had been handicapped a great deal more from within than without. He commented on the spirit of jealousy that prevailed, and regretted that when certain districts lost members from the executive interest in the Union dwindled” (RU minutes, 24/05/1913). On accepting the Presidency, Catton too “appealed to members to adopt a spirit of unity, throw into the movement all the enthusiasm they possessed, put aside all jealousy & not be afraid to make sacrifices” (RU minutes, 24/05/1913).

As we have seen in relation to the Adams case, some of these divisions appear to have been caused by the leaders of the RU and in particular by Sutcliffe and Catton. It should be noted that Sutcliffe and Catton‟s actions are identified here among numerous possible „causal‟ factors in terms of the RU‟s limited success. For, in attempting to understand the organisation as a whole, it is important to avoid attributing too much significance to single individuals within it. Similarly, given the incomplete nature of the RU minutes, the extent of the problems caused by the RU leadership are not necessarily immediately apparent. These arguments are then somewhat speculative and, like all aspects of this thesis, further research will be required to establish their relative adequacy as explanations for the causes of the RU‟s ineffectiveness.

210 At this stage in the RU‟s history, Sutcliffe in particular does seem to have been relatively influential in the running of the organisation. It might be argued that he caused divisions on two levels which, given his status, had important ramifications for the RU as a whole. The first relates to his links with the Football League. As suggested, this may have had the effect of limiting FA support for the RU. But it is also possible that Sutcliffe‟s Football League „priorities‟ compromised what he „did‟ for the RU and how he led the organisation. As Tomlinson (1991, 32-33) notes, Sutcliffe oversaw significant change at the Football League, guiding the organisation through four stages of expansion from 1898-1923. He also “prosecuted corrupt players in the courts; organised refereeing appointments and drew up fixture lists” (Tomlinson, 1991, 33). This was combined with work on FA committees, presidency of the Lancashire FA, service on the appeals committees for 20 local leagues and his work as a solicitor. This range of work commitments may then simply have limited the amount of time he was able to devote to the RU. As a consequence, perhaps he lacked the time to help the RU develop a clear strategy for achieving its aims. This absence of clear policy undoubtedly hampered the RU in its efforts to achieve its aims. Catton too failed to establish strategies for achieving the RU aims. He, like Sutcliffe before him and others since31, resorted to largely vacuous statements such as: “it behoves the officials to help themselves. How? By banding together to protect themselves against injustice” (1913a, 7). In this sense, the early leaders of the RU appear to have seen their role as garnering as much support as possible from referees, without clearly defining exactly what they would actually do for them and how they would do it.

Sutcliffe‟s commitment to the Football League may also have compromised his role at the RU in another sense. For, in some ways these two roles represented something of a conflict of interests. It seems likely that Sutcliffe was, in principle, averse to referees „rocking the boat‟, agitating for change or causing any disruption, in particular, to Football League fixtures. It is

211 somewhat ironic that he so readily critiqued the FA‟s decision to suspend Adams whilst sitting on the Football League Management Committee which adopted a similar policy. Sutcliffe might have been in a position to affect change on this issue, but apparently sanctioned suspensions. When RU member, Annal, was „withdrawn‟ from the Football League list of referees in 1919, the RU were resigned to the fact they could not act on his behalf, for:

the Union could not interfere with any such decision of the League as had been before pointed out in the policy of the Union. If the League declared that a referee was not up to their required standard the union could not say that he was (RU minutes, 10/02/1920).

As noted, Sutcliffe was also against RU members taking such radical action as striking and the evidence from the RU minutes indicates he was reluctant to lead the RU to push for change on many other issues local members were concerned about. The minutes of a number of local associations reveal numerous recurring complaints and grievances. Several issues appear to have been common causes of complaint, in particular; the fees paid to referees, poor accommodation/ changing facilities, assessments, assaults, club reports, and conflicts over promotion and over refereeing appointments to local leagues32. These, however, were never „taken up‟ in any concerted way by the RU as a national body in its early years. Whilst, as the previous discussion in this chapter indicates, the RU occasionally „picked up‟ on issues there was never any prolonged „campaign‟ or strategy to address them. Again, Sutcliffe‟s role in this regard does not explain the RU‟s long term lack of success, but it may explain why the organisation lacked direction and cohesion at the outset – something which, in some senses, it never recovered from. And, when Catton took over as president it seems that he too failed to see issues such as raising refereeing fees as part of the RU remit to improve the status of referees. He argued, for example:

We, who look at the game from a high standpoint, the only view worth having, do not look with too much favour upon

212 large fees. With the advance of the fee there might spring up a professional class of referees, I mean men who would not do anything else in life but referee matches. I make bold to say that [s]uch a stamp of official is not wanted in the best interests of football. We want the referee who has a position in the world in which he lives. We require the man who takes up football as a hobby, who loves the game, and is well content to accept a modest fee (Catton, 1913a, 8).

The “high standpoint” of these early RU leaders can have done little to convince local members that the RU would „fight‟ on their behalf. This, then, may partly explain why there appear to have been regular disagreements between the national and local bodies, and why local associations may have been reluctant to “throw into the movement all the enthusiasm they possessed”.

The second level on which Sutcliffe in particular appears to have caused divisions is „personal‟, in terms of the disruption he engendered between the national body and local associations. Whilst Tomlinson (1991, 33) notes the successful way in which Sutcliffe “cajoled, bullied, disciplined and developed the [Football] League towards the modern era”, this approach was less successful in connection with the RU. Two years after he had stepped down from the Presidency for the second time, Sutcliffe was “severely attack[ing]” the policy of the RA. Arguing that “when he was the official head of the organisation” it was “a successful one”, he claimed “it was now disunited & unrepresentative, & he could take no further interest in it” (RA minutes, 6/10/1922). The attack was “declared ... most unsporting, unfair, inaccurate & a wilful misinterpretation of facts” by the RA honourable secretary - to which he might have added „damaging‟. For Sutcliffe was not just writing letters to the RA, but had made “destructive comments and sarcastic criticism ... for some time past in newspaper articles” (RA minutes, 6/10/1922). And it is evident that this “sarcastic criticism” was an aspect of a fairly protracted campaign against the RA by Sutcliffe. At the Lancashire RA conference in 1924, itself independent from the RA, Sutcliffe dismissed the proposal that

213 Blackburn RA should affiliate to the national body. His reaction was reported in the local press:

Mr Sutcliffe said that he had been insulted by the National Association. He had asked for things to be done and could not get them done, and he had washed his hands of the National Association. The conference had to decide the question, but if they joined the national Association he had finished with them because he had nothing to do with the National Association nor with any society affiliated to it (The Lancaster Guardian, 26/7/1924, in Moffet, 1981, 8-9).

Given Sutcliffe‟s status as a prominent Football League representative, his comments may well have influenced the attitudes of local association members and other referees, particularly in Lancashire. It is likely that his criticisms dissuaded referees from joining the RA. They can have done little to enhance the RA‟s already modest reputation.

As well as these „personnel‟ issues, the RU/RA was also hampered by organisational difficulties. Whilst the aim had been to co-ordinate the activities of the numerous local associations in its membership, the scale of this task appears to have been beyond the scope of the volunteers who ran the national body. In 1929 Schumacher asked rhetorically:

Are our members content to carry on the affairs of the RA in the parochial way that has hitherto obtained, or are they of the opinion that the time has come to launch out and to conduct our affairs as a national body (RA minutes 22/6/1929).

But this „rallying call‟ to members represented something of a triumph of hope over experience. The minutes from the local associations consulted for this study indicate that members were resigned to the fact that the national body could not or did not represent their interests. In general, local associations appear to have „got on with‟ fighting their own battles at local level; in other words, carrying on in a “parochial way”.

214

Given the internal conflicts which dogged the RU/RA, its lack of success in challenging the FA and its absence of a strategy to achieve its aims, it is perhaps not surprising that there seems to have been a sense of disillusionment and apathy from local organisations. And, from an already relatively powerless position, the RA was marginalised still further in 1930 when the Association of Football League Referees & Linesmen (AFLR&L) was formed, which became responsible for the organisation and training of „elite‟ referees. Since then, the RA‟s priorities have been focused on the grassroots game and overseeing the training and support of new refereeing recruits. Although the local level issues and problems for referees have remained relatively constant since then, the potential for „high profile‟ conflict with the FA appears to have been reduced by this change. Where relevant, the issues addressed by the RA are picked up on in the remaining chapters of this thesis. However, the central focus is on the issues and problems raised in relation to elite level referees. In the next chapter, I move on to discuss the global spread of football and consider the impact of those processes on refereeing.

1 There is a sort of „sarcastic undertone‟ when referees are referred to in several sources I have come across. For example, Major Marindin‟s treatment by spectators was highlighted in the Athletic News: “Fancy the President of the Football Association being hooted for his decisions as a referee” (1st December, 1885, in Wagg, 1984, 16). Carr‟s early account of the press treatment of him after a game reveals a similarly mocking tone: “... one London paper [came] out with „The referee was Mr S.R. Carr, who appreciated the genial spring weather more than anybody. He appeared in full lawn tennis costume, with a blazer of hideous orange hue‟” (Carr, 1894a, 267). Similarly, Jones‟s „The Age of Referees‟ (in Glanville 1962, 378-379), circa 1905 hints at a range of issues for which referees were ridiculed: There was a chap who couldn‟t run, Whose playing days were long since done; And consequently he was free To rule the game as referee. His vision, it must be confessed, Was scarcely of the very best; But yet he generally could see Enough to take his weekly fee. Sometimes the ball was near him, then He got mixed up amongst the men; But he always preferred to stay Where he was farthest from the play. „Twas FA Cup-ties and the “lines” On which he had his chief designs; Such matches are a pleasant task, They always pay you what you ask. A referee can‟t be too old While he has strength to take the gold;

215

Perhaps he cannot run or see, But all the same he‟ll referee. By 1913, Catton was arguing: “too often [referees] are misunderstood, maligned, molested pilloried and punished in such a way as to make me wonder how it is that men of respectability ever undertake these duties…[referees] have to fight against fanaticism, ignorance, and influence. They seem to be the common enemy of all football folks. The referee is the old Aunt Sally of the game for every man to throw at” (Catton, 1913a, 7). And: “some writers in almost every newspaper are only too ready to accuse the modern referee of conceit, of an exaggerated sense of his own importance” (Catton, 1913c, 3). 2 Catton was editor of The Sporting Chronicle between 1875 to 1883 and became editor of The Athletic News in 1901 (The Football Referee, No 1 Sept. 1913, 5). He had never refereed, but as “a man whose name is known throughout the universe” he was seen as “a staunch friend of referees, who always had their interests at heart” (The Football Referee, No 1. September 1913, pp. 4-5). 3 Sutcliffe, who qualified as solicitor in 1886, played for Burnley in the 1880s. On retiring as a referee in 1898 he was immediately elected onto the League Management Committee (Tomlinson, 1991, 32). He was instrumental in the expansion of the Football League and was involved on the FA referee-, international-, league appeals- and LOTG- committees (Tomlinson, 1991, 33). 4 See: http://footballreferee.org/web/northstaffs/AbouttheClub.htm 5 The Northern, Bradford and Oldham societies had all agreed to join, whilst the following societies had not joined: West Riding, Leeds, Liverpool, Darlington, Bury, Blackpool, Preston, Furness, Carlisle, Ashton and Wigan (RU minutes, 13/11/08). 6 Blackpool, Fylde & Wyre Districts Referees’ Association 75th Anniversary 1908-1983. The LFA (formed 1878), to which the RA supplied referees, had 90 registered referees in 1901, by 1949 there were between 850-900. 7 The S&DRA had 140 members by 1913-14; Reading RA had between 60-70 members in the late 1920s (Sawdon-Smith, 1971); Burnley RA had 38 members on its formation in 1920-21, which had increased to 79 by the next season (Clancy, 1996) and the Harrow RA first met in a shop basement in 1935, with 17 members present (The Harrow Referee, December 1996). 8 The list comprises: C. Sutcliffe (Rawtenstall), F. Heath (Birmingham), J.T. Howcroft (Bolton); T.P. Campbell (Blackburn), J.H. Pearson (Crewe), J.A. Catton (Manchester), J.T. Ibbotson (Derby) and H. Pollitt (Manchester), listed as Hon. Sec. All of these became members of the RU Council and Executive Committees. Other attendees at the meeting and their origins are not noted, but some may have been southern based. 9 Vamplew (1988, 359, n8) cites the following Football League minutes for these policies: 21/1/1892; 6/11/1903; 5/9/1904; 28/9/1909; 12/8/1910; 6/1/1911; 9/9/1912. 10 Sutcliffe‟s views were not necessarily shared by other RU members: his article included the disclaimer: “The writer alone is responsible for this article, and the editors have kindly consented to insert it just as received.” 11 Membership of the RU/RA Year No. of Year No. of Year No. of Year No. of members members members members 1908 300 1919-20 1422 1928-29 3841 1954 12201 1910 535 1920-21 2,289 1933-48 No Data 1955 12262 1911-12 644 1922-23 2795 1949 7989 1956 12037 1913 886 1925-26 3643 1950 11673 1977 15535 1914 1588 1926-27 3782 1952 11673 1978 15, 940 1915-19 No data 1927-28 3782 1953 11756 2001 17500 Sources: RU/RA Minutes, RU/RA Annual Reports and http://www.footballreferee.org 12 The exceptions are the 24 „Select Group‟ officials who are salaried on rolling two year contracts. This is discussed in more depth in later chapters. 13 One mention of threatened strike action by a local association in the RA minutes comes from 1949. Then “The Secretary reported that the members of the Oxfordshire Branches had intimated... that they intended to withdraw their services from the [Oxfordshire] FA as from July next and that such withdrawal would be continued into the 1949-50 playing season should the necessity arise. This action was being taken owing to the failure of the OFA to grant representation to the referees”. The resolution that “the Referees‟ Association cannot tolerate any threats of „striking‟ by members in any circumstances whatever” was carried (RA minutes, 17/6/1949). 14 For example, the S&DRA members addressed the following at their monthly meetings: “Sharp Practice” (S&DRA minutes, 12/3/1919); “Referees & Accidents” and “Offside problems” (6/2/1920); discussion on “sharp practice... many knotty points were raised” (22/10/20); “The Mental Training of Referees” (10/12/1924) and; “discussion on proposed alteration of the offside law” (11/2/1925).

216

Worthing Referees‟ Society discussed county legislation and procedures (12/3/1948), appointments and promotion (18/11/1949; 27/10/1950), “initial treatment of players‟ injuries – dos and don‟ts” (20/1/1950), “positioning on the field of play” (26/10/1951) and “match incidents” (30/11/1951; 28/12/1951). I am grateful to Keith Brisley of the Worthing Referees Society for supplying these details. 15 It was recorded in 1971 that: “Council were concerned at the rising number of instances, particularly in the lower echelons of the game, where referees were being physically assaulted” (RA Minutes, 11/12/1971). The same minutes make reference to a questionnaire being compiled “with a view to ascertaining facts”, but I did not come across this in the RA archives. 16 See, for example, The Times: 18/3/25, 6; 14/4/26, 11; 9/5/27, 6; 14/ 5/27, 9; 1/5/30, 5; 22/4/31, 11; 5/10/33, 9; 13/1/34, 7 and; 22/1/34, 7. See also Sheffield and District RA minutes, 29/5/1920 and 8/6/1920. That prosecutions may have been relatively rare is suggested in Louden‟s (1982) history of the North Riding (Yorks.) Association. He suggests a serious assault on a referee in 1954 which resulted in prosecution was “the first occasion that such an offence had been perpetrated on a North Riding referee” since its formation in 1907. Given the tendency for the minutes of such organisations to be incomplete, it is of course possible that previous incidents had not been recorded. 17 For example in 1971: “Instances were quoted where referees were unwilling to prosecute or take civil action. Statements had been alleged that certain County associations were lax in authorising financial backing. However, again little specific evidence of this was available to council. It was a desired to remind all concerned … that where a County FA will not, or is in dilatory in authorising financial assistance for civil prosecutions, then the RA will do so” (RA Minutes, 11/12/1971). The issue of assaults was raised again in 1978, when FA secretary was present. Again, limited and variable support from county FAs was under discussion: “dismay was expressed over the continued £20.00 limit of assistance offered to referees who wished to pursue legal action. The FA had expressed concern on learning members were out of pocket on being victims of assault. The General Secretary presented the Report put together on information received from county FAs which showed the variance in how matters were resolved, relative to suspensions, Legal assistance and the numbers of years before the sine die [indefinite] suspensions were lifted.” Croker‟s response was also recorded: “when police action was taken, these cases should be given the utmost publicity and possibly was the better course to adopt because when taking civil action the referee should consider the merits of this because a lot of money was risked, when possibly the result would not be favourable to the injured party. Mr Croker felt that careful consideration should be given to each case and that where possible, the referee should be advised against taking expensive court action” (RA minutes, 16/6/1978). The FA produced figures on assaults in the 1990s: in 1992/93, there were 340 attacks on referees (Millard in The Elcetronic Telegraph, 30/11/94); in the 1996-97 season there were 293 proven cases of assaults on referees nationally, in the context of around 1 million games involving 44,000 clubs. Offences are split into three categories: Grade A assault, (209 incidents proven) includes: any common assault, such as knocking the referee‟s book from his/her hands to „manhandling‟. Penalties – 182-day ban and £100 fine. Grade B assault, (72 incidents proven) includes: attempted bodily harm. Penalties - sine die [indefinite] suspension and £200 fine (with no appeal for five years) Grade C assault (12 proven), includes: causing actual bodily harm. Penalty: permanent suspension from all football. As Harris notes, the infamous Di Canio „push‟ on referee Paul Alcock would not “would not even count as a Grade A assault” (figures from Harris, The Independent Online, 29/09/98). 18 The Judge presiding over the case ruled that the linesman was “liable to two months imprisonment , but having apologised in Court, they would impose a lesson to the defendant and others a fine of £2, and advocate‟s fees (£1.11.6d) and costs of witnesses (£4.8.6d in all) or imprisonment according to scale” In The Lancaster Guardian, 28/5/1921, cited by Moffet (1981, 17). 19 The Lancaster Guardian: 30/12/22, 13/1/23 and 10/10/24, cited by Moffet (1981, 16-17). 20 The matter had been raised at the previous month‟s meeting, but was “deferred in the absence of Mr Lockwood” (FA Minutes, 26/5/1913). 21 Such differences are, once again, indicative of diverse ideologies about how the game should be played and overseen. The Times‟s reporter clearly subscribed to the „old school‟ of rough play. Seemingly unaware that hacking had been outlawed in 1863, he revealed his views in the following: “the game was continually being stopped for small casualties. These expensive professionals seem to be very fragile creatures: the smallest hack, which no Public School boy would think of noticing, is enough to send them to earth in a well-acted but supremely ridiculous, agony of pain, whereupon the referee blows his hard-worked whistle and hurries up to soothe the injured spot with a sympathetic paw. The Football Association ought really to appoint an official matron to mother these tender creatures, to kiss the place to make it well officially” (The Times, 21/4/1913, 12). The attitudes embodied in this account reveal, once again, an oppositional construction of „amateur‟ and „professional‟. As established in

217 previous chapters, the distinctions between these two groups are best understood relationally and developmentally. For, many of the offences outlined in The Laws, often understood as a „reaction‟ to professional tactics, were in fact put in place in the public school and amateur games. And, as will be discussed in Chapter Seven, the traditional masculine ideals embodied as part of the amateur ethos were also shared by professional players. 22 Lockwood appears not to have been „sent‟ to report on the final. Commenting after Lockwood‟s death in October 1913, Catton suggested he had “conceived it to be his duty to report his impressions of the last Final Tie, and of what he saw and believed. As a soldier he did not shrink from a most unpleasant task” (Catton, 1913, 8). 23 Sutcliffe had retired due to ill-health in May 1913. Catton held office up until the 6th Annual Conference in May 1914. The First World War resulted in a break in RU activity. What remained of a “depleted” Executive met in May 1919 (RU minutes, 30/5/19) and the 7th Annual conference was held in August 1919. At what point Catton ceased in his duties is not clear. At the first post war executive meeting (30/5/19), it was proposed that Sutcliffe was approached to accept the Presidency again. He was elected at conference in August 1919. 24 This is an issue which would benefit from further investigation. I have not established precisely „when‟ the FA first allowed appeals against refereeing decisions, although it was an established practice by 1892 (See Gibson & Pickford, 1906a, 115). It would be interesting to establish when the FA first decided in favour of appealing player(s) against referees‟ reports, and how frequently refereeing decisions were „overturned‟- i.e., a suspension or fine was not imposed by the FA after a player had been sent off. 25 These were: W Pickford, JC Clegg, C Crump, A G Hines, J Lewis, J Howcroft and A Kingscott (FA minutes, 5/7/1913). 26 See, for example, RU minutes: 23/6/1923, 22/6/29, 17/6/1949, 16/6/1950, 20/2/61. 27 When the RA was restructured in 2003, one aspect of the re-organisation involved renaming the RA „the Referees‟ Association of England‟ and the development of separate structures for Wales and Northern Ireland. This restructuring was partly undertaken in order for the RA to be in a better position to lobby the FA for FA Council membership. For: “[o]ne of the justifications given for the absence of elected referee representatives at the FA has been the membership of large numbers of non-English referees within the RA”. At present, former elite referees David Elleray and Ray Lewis are FA Council members. However, they represent the Independent Schools and Surrey County FA respectively, rather than referees (http://www.footballreferee.org/news/view_news.asp?newsitem=128, 16/3/04). 28 It is not clear whether they all agreed to become patrons. The S&DRA minutes reveal Clegg only accepted the invitation in 1923 (S&DRA minutes, 14/9/1923). 29 In failing to convert it, Aston Villa‟s Charlie Wallace became the first player to miss a penalty in an FA Cup Final (Robinson, 1986, 35). 30 It may, in the short term, have influenced referees – perhaps to over react. For, Campbell suggested “[a]lthough the season has only just started, several players have been sent off the field for offences (I am told) that were not deserving of such drastic punishment. My own opinion is that some of our referees have become „nervy‟ through the action of The FA in the Adams case… A great many of our referees are in fear and trembling when they hear of a representative of The FA or the League being present at their match” (Campbell, 1913, 10). 31 Schumacher, for example, argued: “[w]e must make ourselves so strong that even the FA cannot ignore our wishes” (RA minutes 22/6/1929). 32 See, for example, RU minutes 24/05/1913, 30/5/1919; Schofield (1998, 17), Clancy (1996); Loudon (1982, pp. 3, 12, 14, 28, 42); Sawdon- Smith (1971, 2); Tonbridge RA minutes 3/10/1949, 12/10/1949, 6/11/1950, 3/11/52, 9/2/1953, 13/4/1953 and; S&DRA minutes, 7/3/1919, 16/4/1920, 8/6/1920, 27/8/1920, 11/1/1924, 8/11/1939, 10/11/43, 29/9/1950, 13/11/1956).

218 Chapter Seven: International Refereeing Issues Having thus far explored how developments at the FA and the Football League shaped refereeing practices, this chapter moves on to consider football‟s global spread and the ways in which the development of international football shaped refereeing practices. Specifically, attention is paid to FIFA‟s inception in 1904 and the relationship between FIFA and the FA during the 20th century. The history of FA membership of FIFA - and long periods of withdrawal - are discussed here in order to shed light on the shifting power relationships between the FA and the international governing body. The analysis of this relationship provides the necessary backdrop to understanding the development of refereeing and, in particular, the problems raised by divergent international refereeing practices. In this context, the British domination of the IFAB is considered and, more generally, the English and British „control‟ over the Laws of the Game is explored.

The next section of this chapter looks at the relatively limited efforts made by FIFA to establish universal refereeing practices. The reasons for this limited intervention are explored, in terms of the „practical‟ constraints on FIFA, such as the cost and difficulty of travel. Similarly, the ways in which a lack of concern over differing refereeing practices can be seen as an indication that FIFA did not perceive that there was a „problem‟ which needed to be addressed during the early 20th century are also considered.

One of the key themes in this chapter is the relatively high status afforded to both the FA and British referees, throughout the early to mid 20th Century. The reasons why British referees came to be seen as pre-eminent in international football are discussed next in this chapter. The employment of British referees by the Argentinean FA in the 1930s-1950s, an indication of their relatively high status, is then explored. In the context of this discussion, the way in which different playing styles in different cultural contexts became

219 apparent is also examined. Next, the extent to which the relatively high status accorded to British referees was a „fair‟ reflection of their abilities is discussed. In particular, the training – or lack of it - offered to English referees in the mid 20th century is considered in relation to this issue. Attention is then paid to the lack of uniformity of refereeing practices in England during this period and changes made to address this situation. Finally, the gradual introduction of more formal guidance and instruction from the FA and FIFA in the post Second World War era is briefly discussed.

The Development of International Football

An in depth discussion of the development of association football outside of the UK is unnecessary here and, as such, a brief overview is given. Some parallels can be drawn between the development of association football in England and the global diffusion of the game. Local variations of football were already being played in different countries prior to the „introduction‟ of the association game. The spread of association football was not part of a deliberate FA/ British strategy to export the association game to the rest of the world. Rather, the diffusion of this specific form of football was initially an unplanned outcome (Elias, 1994) of the long-term social processes of British imperialism and industrialisation. In the late 19th century, migrant British workers and Army personnel played the Association game in numerous countries1 (see, for example, Arlott, 1976, 301-302 and Green, 1956, 98-102). Some set up football clubs, others played football informally, and some taught the game in schools. British clubs sides also toured in Europe and South America, often attracting large crowds (see Rous & Ford, 1974, 48 and Walvin, 2001, 76-77). Sunderland, for example, toured America in 1894 and the amateur Corinthian side travelled to South Africa in 1897 (Green, 1956, 103). The first „official‟ international tour by an England side was played in 1899, when the FA sent a team to play against sides in Berlin and Prague (Rous & Ford, 1974, 48). The first German club had been set up in 1878 (Dunning, 1999, 103) and a German side toured Britain in 1900-01, whilst the Surrey Wanderers played in

220 Switzerland in 1900 (see Arlott, 1976, 317-338 and Walvin, 2001, 72-76). So, the association game began to spread rapidly (Dunning 1999, 103) to numerous countries on various continents at the elite and non-elite levels.

From the late 1880s onwards, numerous national Football Associations were established outside of Britain2. The earliest proposals for an international association were first mooted in the 1890s. Then, representatives from Belgium approached the FA to form a body to promote football in Europe but, as Tomlinson suggests, the FA members were initially indifferent to the need for such an organisation (1994, 14). Similarly, when another approach was made by a representative from the in 1902 the FA failed to respond (Arlott, 1976, 303 and Tomlinson, 1994, 14). At this stage the FA member‟s sense of „international‟ was most often an insular, parochial one. The British Home International Championship had been played since 1883 and, as discussed, the IFAB had been set up in 1882. Both these institutions were well established by the time other nations were looking to develop international footballing relations and the FA members apparently saw little need to foster contact beyond the home nations.

The Establishment of FIFA FIFA was established in 1904 by 7 European footballing nations; Belgium, Denmark, France, The Netherlands, Spain, and Switzerland. Again, the FA were approached to join by the French representative, Guérin, who became FIFA‟s inaugural president. But invitations to join were declined without explanation: “The Council of the Football Association cannot see the advantages of such a Federation, but on all such matters upon which joint action was desirable they would be prepared to confer” (in Green, 1956, 103; Arlott, 1976, 303 and Tomlinson, 1994, 14). FIFA‟s founder members persisted without FA involvement and the first FIFA statutes became effective from September 1st 1904. These established that member associations would play according to the FA Laws of the Game and that “FIFA alone was entitled to take over the organisation of an international competition”3.

221

As Arlott notes, between 1904-06, FA members demonstrated a willingness to co-operate with FIFA, but were not prepared to „sign up‟ to the organisation, nor to take the lead that representatives from other countries appeared to want them to. In hindsight, the FA unwillingness to take a leading role from the outset might seem short-sighted. But, it has to be remembered that FIFA was the first truly international sports organisation to be established. It is, therefore, not surprising that FA members did not recognise how significant and relatively powerful FIFA would become - and to what extent FA members would want to take a leading role in subsequent years. The initial reluctance to become involved with FIFA was related to concerns that the FA would lose some of its autonomy, for example, in terms of how the national body „ran its own affairs‟. At this stage, such concerns were largely unfounded. For, as discussed below, when the FA initially became FIFA members, the English national association actually retained a level of autonomy not granted to other member associations and thus remained remarkably unfettered by FIFA membership. As we shall see, this power balance shifted substantially towards the end of the 20th century and the FA has gradually become increasingly constrained by the international governing body.

Rather than being dissuaded by English „aloofness‟, FIFA‟s founder members continued to seek the FA‟s guidance and approval. Compared to the FA administrators, they lacked experience of organising and overseeing football, which partly explains why they persisted in spite of English/British disinterest. Only a few international matches had been played prior to FIFA‟s establishment, such as those between Austria and Hungary in 1902, Belgium and France, Belgium and the Netherlands and Uruguay and Argentina in 1904 (Rous & Ford, 1974, 49). But, as Tomlinson (1994, 15) notes, the formation of FIFA actually predated the existence of national associations in several of its founder members‟ countries (Sweden, Spain and France). Both Denmark and Switzerland played their first internationals in 1908 (Arlott, 1976, 302 and Tomlinson, 1994, 15). Given the immense project the FIFA founders had set for

222 themselves - to oversee and promote the game on an international scale - the „greenhorn‟ founder members probably had little choice but to continue to seek the support and advice of their largely indifferent but „veteran‟ British counterparts.

The FA joined in 1906 (Rous & Ford, 1974, 50), motivated, according to Tomlinson, by a “sense of leadership and duty” (1994, 15). Among other issues, the FA felt they had a duty to ensure „their‟ laws were being interpreted „properly‟. Concern over the way “FIFA [members] were interpreting some of the laws of the game and were defining amateurism” were key to the FA joining FIFA (Arlott, 1976, 303. See also Green, 1956, 106). Prior to the FA‟s initial entry into FIFA, it was agreed that the FIFA constitution should be redrafted, a process for which the FA‟s Daniel Woolfall was responsible (Rous, 1979, 91). At an international conference in Berne in 1906, attended by four FA representatives, agreement was reached that:

The Laws of the Game as promulgated by the Football Association (England) should be strictly adhered to by all members of the Association.

And:

Each Association admitted to the Federation must be the actual National body, controlling all Association football within that country (in Arlott, 1976, 303).

From the outset there was one rather striking exception to this latter „rule‟: the FA. For, in England, not „all‟ association football was controlled by the FA. As discussed in Chapter Four, from the outset, the Football League Management Committee had overseen all aspects of League football, including the appointment of referees. This English „anomaly‟ which existed until 2001, was unique in world football4. It is interesting that this requirement was set down for all other FIFA member associations, but that the FA was apparently „exempt‟. The reasons why the FA were granted membership despite such a

223 significant departure from FIFA policy relates to the status of English football at the turn of the century. The existing FIFA members were keen to have the endorsement of the „inventors‟ of the modern game which FA membership would represent. As such, the FA were able to retain a degree of autonomy not afforded to other members and, as Rous puts it, to achieve a “somewhat undeserved prominence in FIFA‟s early developments” (1979, 91). The relationship between the FA and FIFA during the first half of the 20th century is characterised by this kind of power „imbalance‟, with the FA almost able to dictate the conditions under which they would agree to become FIFA members.

The FA‟s influence was further enhanced when Woolfall was made FIFA president. When the then FIFA president, Guérin, resigned in 1906 after a failed attempt to organise an international tournament for clubs - for which there were no entries - Woolfall took over and held the post until his death in 1918. Post World War Two, English representatives headed the organisation for much of the period until the mid 1970s5, which, given the expansion of FIFA, resulted in considerable English „over-representation‟ at the head of the world body. Again, this is indicative of the relatively high status of the FA in relation to other national associations during this period. As we shall see, this pre-eminence in world football has since declined somewhat, although through their continued „over representation‟ on the IFAB, the British associations retain much of their authority over the Laws of the Game.

The IFAB As noted, concern over the Laws of the Game was a central and long term issue for FA members. Arlott (1976, 304) suggests that prior to the First World War, FIFA members had made efforts to replace the IFAB. This challenge to „British control‟ over The Laws was resisted. At Woolfall‟s suggestion (Rous, 1979, 91), two FIFA representatives did join the IFAB in 1913. These members were afforded voting rights at IFAB meetings - a privilege apparently withdrawn when British Associations left FIFA in 1920 (see below). However,

224 with the British associations having two members each on the IFAB (i.e., 8 in total) and the proviso that any changes to The Laws had to be passed by a four-fifths majority, the British associations effectively maintained control over the development of the laws of the Game (Beck, 2000, 116). In this sense, Woolfall‟s (and The FA‟s) suggestion to involve two FIFA members was something of a token gesture. Their inclusion on the IFAB provided a veneer of democracy in the context of FIFA expansion, but in reality, the British associations retained control over any changes to The Laws. As suggested, FA members had developed a particularly strong sense of ownership over „their‟ laws and were clearly unwilling to relinquish this aspect of their authority to the international body. The British domination of the IFAB was eroded in 1957 when FIFA members were given an extra two votes on the board, with the British associations retaining one vote each. This, then, meant that FIFA had a fifty percent representation on the board, a situation which remains in place today. Whilst this shifted power towards FIFA, all Law changes still had (and have) to be approved by a three quarters majority. This means that if the British associations vote together they are still able to veto proposed changes to The Laws. Given that FIFA now numbers 204 members, it is interesting that the historical legacy of British over representation on the IFAB has remained unchanged6.

FIFA and The FA: English Status and Influence The FA were FIFA members until 1920, when they resigned over “post war relations” (Beck, 2000, 113; see also Russell, 1997, 91). Prior to rejoining in 1924, the FA emphasised their view of the relationship between the international organisation and the national body:

We have long established laws of the game and Rules of the Associations which are suitable to our wishes and requirements. In some respects these do not appear to be suitable or acceptable to some other National Associations. We do not desire to interfere with the action of other Associations who

225 may not agree with our Rules, nor do we desire that they interfere with ours (in Arlott, 1976, 304).

Unsurprisingly, one of the key areas of authority that the FA was concerned about related to the Laws of the Game:

We observe that the work of the Federation is to control the development of the sport as an International Game. Are we to assume that this control includes the control of the Laws of the Game and the individual Associations forming the Federations? (FA correspondence, 19th October, 1923, in Arlott, 1976, 304).

Had the growing number of FIFA members answered in the affirmative to this question, the power relationships between the FA and FIFA are likely to have shifted firmly in the latter‟s favour. But, as in 1906, FIFA were keen to engage the „experienced‟ and relatively high status FA as members. As such, at a meeting between four FIFA representatives and delegates of the British associations in 1923, the FA set out numerous conditions as prerequisites for re-entry. Among these were the stipulations that, unlike all other international matches, a percentage of the receipts from the home internationals would not be paid to FIFA. In terms of the IFAB, the FA required that:

the [IFAB] be asked to reinsert in its rules the rule giving representation to the International Federation, and providing that there shall not be any alteration in the laws of the game without the consent of at least four-fifths of the representatives present and voting at the International Board (FA minutes, 21st December, 1923, in Arlott, 1976, 305).

That all the conditions set out by the British Associations were acceded to underlines the FA‟s relative power in relation to other FIFA members. The, by then, 20 member countries of FIFA were willing once more to agree to the demands of the British associations in order to attain their membership and the „endorsement‟ of the oldest Associations. However, agreement over the definition of „amateurism‟ (see Beck, 2000) was not reached in 1924 and it was

226 this issue which led to another withdrawal in 1928. As Beck has argued, “problems over the definition of amateurism accentuated perennial concerns about FIFA‟s encroachment upon the authority of national associations” (Beck, 2000, 113; see also Arlott, 1976, 304-6 and Walvin, 2001, 82). The FA did not rejoin until 1946 and, as Beck notes (2000, 113), the issue of „authority‟ remains ever present. As we shall see, refereeing issues have been, and remain, a central axis of tension in the relationships between FIFA and the FA, particularly through the IFAB.

Despite the British associations‟ withdrawal in 1928, “it was decided that the status quo of FIFA‟s representation on the International Board should remain undisturbed” (Green, 1956, 108. See also Beck, 2000, 118). Indeed, as Beck has argued (2000,119), the prolonged „formal‟ absence from FIFA did not result in a cessation of relations between the FA and FIFA members as might be expected, nor, in general, was the ongoing contact hostile. Rather, contact was maintained through IFAB meetings. FIFA members also tried to secure British entry to the World Cup through the 1930s, and informal contact between FA members and FIFA representatives continued throughout the period of British absence from the international body (see Beck, 119-126). For Rous, who had taken over from as FA secretary, in 1934, English isolation from FIFA was “ridiculous”. So, during the FA absence, he “established [his] own close links with leading FIFA personalities to ensure as far as possible that [the FA and FIFA] worked to a common goal” (1979, 92). These contacts aided Britain‟s re-entry in 1946.

As Beck has argued, although “FIFA-affiliated associations were forbidden from arranging club or national fixtures versus non-members... the reluctance of both parties to bring about a complete breach... meant that the post-1928 period witnessed the continuation, even increased frequency ... of matches between British teams and FIFA members (2000, 120). Such a situation is instructive for understanding the power relations between the administrative body and its members. For, whilst the formal FIFA statutes forbidding such

227 practices might be seen as evidence of the organisation‟s relative power, in reality FIFA had yet to achieve the degree of consensus among its members required to ensure its authority was accepted. In this respect, the development of the international body parallels that of the FA as a national authority. FIFA members „allowed‟ continued membership even for those countries not abiding by its rules, just as the FA had allowed Sheffield‟s continued membership even though it did not play by the FA code. Once more, these developments have to be understood relationally and as aspects of long term social processes, characterised by ongoing power struggles (Elias, 1994 and 1978) between those formally in charge, members of the organisation and those outside of the administrative body. One exception to the otherwise cordial relations between FIFA and the British associations was the decision taken by FIFA in 1928 to ban its members from using British referees for international fixtures. Again though, the authoritative power of the governing body was challenged by its constituent members. Thus, the ban was lifted in 1931 following pressure from the Swiss Association and others (Beck, 2000, 120).

The British associations‟ re-entry to FIFA in 1946 was again motivated by a desire “to retain a leading place in the football affairs of the world” (FA Council minutes, 17th December, 1945, in Beck, 2000, 126). This decision is likely to have been informed by the increasing significance of FIFA, which had 51 member countries by 1938 (Beck, 2000, 114)7, and of international competition. It also marked a change in attitude brought about by, the change in personnel at the FA, with, as noted, the more „outward‟ looking Rous replacing Wall as FA secretary. Once again, a series of conditions for re-entry were set out by the British associations, all of which were agreed to by FIFA (Beck, 2000, 126). These included the continued admittance of four separate British associations, rather than a single membership for „Great Britain‟. The IFAB‟s continued control over the Laws of the Game “was safeguarded by FIFA‟s acceptance that the IFAB should continue to operate as before the war” (Beck, 2000, 126). Whilst other FIFA members had by now accrued half a

228 century of experience overseeing international football, the presence of the British associations was still seen as an essential aspect of FIFA‟s development. For Beck (2000, 119); “British membership was deemed vital for a federation claiming to represent the interests of a world game invented and developed in Britain”.

One consequence of the British associations‟ absence from FIFA from 1928-46 was that no British teams or match officials were involved in the first three World Cups (1930, 1934 and 1938). With the interruption of international football effected by the Second World War, it was not until 1950 that an England team were involved in the competition, along with a number of British referees. But, despite the prolonged periods of absence from FIFA and the World Cup, the international development of refereeing up to and beyond 1950 occurred with significant British involvement and influence. Below, this aspect of refereeing history is discussed.

British Referees: The ‘Experts’ on the Laws of the Game

As suggested in the above discussion, throughout much of the 20th century „the English‟ were often seen as the „experts‟ or „the authority‟ on the game - both by the English administrators themselves and by foreign observers. This perception was in part „historical legacy‟, in that the FA was the oldest association and had overseen the development of „football‟ into its modern form. But it was also an ideology and image that the FA administrators cultivated, particularly in relation to the Laws of the Game. The notion that the „British knew best‟ was most keenly apparent in relation to The Laws and, concomitantly, in the way they were interpreted. Part of the motivation behind the FA joining FIFA in 1906 had been concern over the way The Laws were interpreted and a concerted effort was made to ensure the British interpretation of „their‟ laws was demonstrated to the rest of the world. John Lewis had refereed the 1905 France - Belgium international and many of the first internationals between foreign sides noted previously were overseen by

229 British referees - a policy suggested by the then FIFA president, Woolfall (Rous & Ford, 1974, 50). Such a step is likely to have reinforced notions of British pre- eminence in relation to „knowledge‟ of The Laws. For Rous & Ford:

the manner in which these men controlled their matches and the interpretation they placed upon the laws was influential; they were studied and emulated by men who proved apt pupils and who, in turn, soon made their mark as international referees on the continent (1974, 50).

The extent to which the British influence permeated to referees in national leagues abroad is unknown, but it is likely that it was minimal at this stage. In the days prior to television and video, it has to be assumed that relatively few foreign referees would have had the opportunity to witness the „ideal‟ referees in action in what were infrequent international games. Certainly, the evidence discussed later in this chapter indicates that by the 1950s considerable differences in refereeing practices and interpretation of The Laws were evident at an international level. It is likely that these differences would also have been apparent in the domestic leagues of the FIFA member countries, through which international referees progressed. These cultural differences developed over time and are likely to have begun to emerge at this relatively early stage in the development of the global game.

Similarly, like the development of the game in England, refereeing practices in different countries would have been shaped by diverse cultural beliefs and attitudes which would have resulted in varying levels of tolerance for particular offences and levels of violence in the game (Elias, 1994). And, whilst there was an apparent acceptance that the „British way‟ was the „right way‟ to referee in the upper echelons of FIFA, it is unlikely that such a consensus existed at all levels of the game, in every country where association football was being played. Whilst members of the FIFA Rules and Regulations Committee watched British referees in action in international games from the

230 1920s (Rous, 1979, 35), at this stage, it is unlikely that knowledge of the British method of refereeing was very widespread in the lower echelons of the game.

During a period when the methods of communication between countries were relatively unsophisticated, the potential for differences in interpretation of The Laws was significant. The disparity between how The Laws were applied by referees in different countries is apparent in Stark‟s (1913b) account, for example. He refers to a leading French journalist, also “a member of the Football Committee”, who recommended in one of his articles “that a referee must, in some cases, be purposely more severe on the home team, to compensate for the advantage that the team was deriving from the encouragement of its supporters!” (1913b, 11). At this stage, FIFA and members of national associations abroad can, like the FA, have had little knowledge of, or control over, how games were being overseen. Thus the ongoing process of establishing a „shared understanding‟ about how The Laws should be interpreted which, as we have seen, proved immensely challenging in England, is likely to have been made even more complex and difficult to achieve across and within continents.

As well as the problems relating to achieving consensus on how The Laws should be interpreted, there is some evidence to suggest that the „practical‟ problems experienced by referees overseeing games in England were encountered by referees elsewhere, although this suggestion remains to be substantiated by further empirical research. Stark notes, for example, correspondence from a Belgian referee, who suggested, “we had ... good referees, but most of them found it too difficult to go against the current and they referee to the crowd” (1913b, 11). Another example indicates that there were occasionally serious assaults on referees overseas. A referee was shot dead in Italy after “[t]he crowd overpowered the police and succeeded in gaining possession of [their] revolvers” (The Times, 4/5/20, 15)8. Despite half a century of association football in England, the training for referees was, as we have seen, extremely rudimentary at the beginning of the 20th century. It is

231 likely that other embryonic national associations took time to establish organisational structures for referees. There is some evidence to support this claim: a Referees‟ Union was established in Germany in 1913, modelled on the English example, but in France the „referees chart‟ was “an unknown thing” (Stark, 1913b, 11). And, by the 1930s, despite overseeing games in the inaugural World Cup, South American referees were still not regulated by FA referees‟ associations (Thompson, 1998, 57).

The Absence of Universal Refereeing Practices Very limited efforts were made to shape refereeing practices on an international level during FIFA‟s early years. Relatively early in the history of football‟s global development, an International Congress of Referees was held in Brussels in April 1911, to which the Scottish referee, Stark and the Englishman, Crisp, were invited (RU minutes, 27/8/1910 and 20/11/1911). Recollecting the conference, Stark suggested:

that the British standard of refereeing is looked up to and generally copied on the Continent there can be no doubt. The point of view was. .. most admirably expressed by Mr R. W. Seeldrayers in the excellent report ... to the Congres International des Arbitres, ... in which he defined the aims of the Conference as being „to bring the referees of the various Continental federations into line with regard to the interpretation of the laws, in order that these may be applied in uniformity with the traditions and practice of British referees‟ (Stark, 1913a, 10).

It is important to remember that the notion of a unified British „method‟ of interpreting The Laws at this stage was (and remains) an „ideal‟. As previously discussed, without referee training or any monitoring procedures, it is likely that there were wide discrepancies in how The Laws were applied in Britain. Indeed, it is noteworthy that Stark was writing after the Cup Final referee, Adams, had been suspended for his „incorrect‟ application of The Laws. It has to be assumed that Adams‟s appointment was made because of his relative

232 experience and „elite‟ status, suggesting that even the „best‟ referees did not meet the „ideal‟.

It was intended that this conference would become an annual event, but this proposal was “vetoed by the FIFA” (Stark, 1913a, 11). For Stark, such a decision was short sighted and detrimental to the process of achieving consensus on the interpretation of The Laws:

The subsequent suppression of the Conference (an act in which the representatives of The FA were officially concerned, and with which they were presumably in agreement) has ... put back the prospect of a universal working method in the administration of the laws of the game for many years (Stark, 1913a, 11).

It is difficult to understand why FIFA members, and the FA in particular, decided not to support the continuation of this conference. Part of the FIFA remit was to promote the international development of the game and, as demonstrated in the discussion of English football, a universal code was a vital prerequisite to that process. Likewise, part of the FA‟s motivation for joining FIFA had been concern over the way The Laws were being interpreted elsewhere. International conferences such as this would seem to have offered the FA an opportunity to influence such matters. Whilst FIFA had, from the outset, established that the FA laws “should be strictly adhered to” by all member associations, in vetoing this conference they appear to have missed an opportunity to further this process. And there is little evidence to suggest that FIFA made any concerted efforts to aid the development of universal refereeing practices until after the Second World War. It is possible that FIFA vetoed the conference, which was a Belgian initiative, because they wanted to retain the control of refereeing more formally within FIFA structures. However, given that FIFA members attended the conference it is likely that in subsequent meetings they could have shaped discussion of “universal working methods”. Other factors point to more plausible explanations as to why, in

233 quashing the international conference, FIFA effectively hindered efforts to develop universal refereeing practices.

The practical difficulties raised by hosting such a conference at this time are likely to have been significant factors in the decision not support its continuation. Certainly, the broad ambition to involve all of the member countries, which by 1910 numbered 18, is likely to have presented significant organisational and financial challenges at a time when travel was considerably more costly and complicated than it is today and when FIFA was relatively impoverished. The disruption to international football brought about by World War I also, of course, interrupted the organisation of the game, but this relatively „short term‟ factor does not explain why FIFA failed to introduce any policies to promote universal refereeing practices in the post war years.

As well as the practical reasons for limited FIFA intervention, the absence of policies to address divergent refereeing practices may also indicate that, although Stark perceived a problem, international refereeing had yet to achieve „problem status‟ for FIFA members. As suggested, the limited available evidence suggests that the lack of any coherent attempts to train or educate referees led to divergent interpretation of The Laws. However, with few international fixtures, a lack of systematic observation or assessment of referees, and relatively rudimentary methods of communication, it is likely that FIFA had yet to realise the problems which such discrepancies would lead to when international competition became more serious. For, like the development of the game in England, the organisation of refereeing appears to have been something of a low priority for FIFA. By 1913, Stark was stressing:

the absolute necessity for an International entente, on all matters appertaining to the game and its administration. Will the FIFA wake up to the necessity? If not, is it compulsory that referees should wait? (1913b, 11).

234 It appears that referees did have to wait. FIFA had established a Rules and Regulations Committee by 1927 (Rous, 1979, 35) (renamed the Referees‟ Committee in 1946). The task of the committee was “to answer queries from national Associations and take decisions on the problems they posed ... concerning refereeing method or interpretation of the laws” (Rous, 1979, 127). During the 1928-1946 period when the FA were absent from FIFA, English influence over the interpretation of The Laws was maintained by Rous‟s membership of the committee, a position he held alongside three other European members9. Rous noted the difficulty of trying to “ensure that nuances and meanings were identical in French, German, Italian, and English. Without any expert linguists among us, that was a laborious task which stretched the meetings out for two days or more” (1979, 127). Whilst these Europeans worked to achieve a common understanding of The Laws, those member countries outside of Europe, such as Argentina and Chile which had joined FIFA in 1912 (Egcenberger, 1986, 412), were largely „excluded‟ from this process. Again, this was probably an outcome of the prohibitive costs of travel and the lack of recognition at this stage that a lack of involvement would lead to problems later. However, the absence of non-Europeans from this process can be understood as another factor which contributed to the development of diverse playing and refereeing practices which became apparent during the World Cup tournaments.

It was not until 1948 that FIFA, in conjunction with the FA, organised the first International Course and Conference on Refereeing in London, which was attended by delegates from 28 countries (Rous & Ford, 1974, 63). This signalled the beginnings of a more concerted effort by the international body to address diverse refereeing practices, as such international meetings became more frequent (see, for example, RU minutes, 2/2/ 1952 and 18/4/1963). By 1948 it had become clear that “problems of conveying exact meanings in translation had not been overcome and the differences “which had always been apparent over interpretation of The Laws had been allowed to grow more pronounced

235 owing to the hiatus of the war” (Rous & Ford, 1974, 63). Again, as the evidence on the development of the game in England indicates, the process of establishing consensus on the interpretation of The Laws was a complex, ongoing process. The problems presented by attempting to ensure that The Laws were universally interpreted across continents were, and remain, significant. Indeed, the notion that a situation can be arrived at where all referees interpret The Laws in the same way is an „ideal‟. The process of attempting to achieve consensus on The Laws and their interpretation is one of constant negotiation and contestation. The emergence of diverse international refereeing practices began to become more apparent during the course of the World Cup competitions, which are discussed in the following chapter. As will be discussed, through the 1950s to 1970s, British officials and the „British method‟ of officiating continued to be afforded high status in the international game. Below, the processes through which British referees became seen as pre eminent – and how accurately this status reflected their abilities - are briefly explored.

British Referees Around the World As noted, the relatively high status of British officials was cemented in the early years of FIFA, when they often oversaw international fixtures between foreign sides. Their reputation for „fairness‟ and impartiality was also established on the trips abroad undertaken by English club sides throughout the early to mid 20th century. For Rous, who refereed many European internationals:

There was a feeling, generally justified in practice, that British referees were less dramatic in gesture, but more daring in practice. Too many European referees in the twenties and thirties would shy away from an awkward decision by giving a free kick just outside the penalty area when the offence was clearly just inside it. We, however, had a deserved reputation for applying the laws without fear or favour ... As a result even quite ordinary

236 referees by home standards had considerable reputations abroad (Rous, 1979, 37).

It is of course impossible to know how accurate Rous‟s assessment was. There is evidence to suggest it was a view shared by other FIFA members. For, as well as overseeing international matches, British referees were recruited to oversee games in the Argentinean domestic league during the 1940s and 1950s, discussed in more detail below. And, with relatively more experience in overseeing The Laws which FIFA members had agreed to play by, British referees were by default more „qualified‟ than their foreign counterparts to know how they were meant to be applied. But this qualification „by default‟ also raises questions about how „good‟ British referees actually were. For there is a sense in which there was a „common sense‟ understanding that the British would be the best at interpreting their laws. Given the evidence cited in Chapters Five and Six on the lack of training for British officials, how competent “quite ordinary” referees were remains questionable.

Similarly, as noted, the appointment of British referees to international matches was an English led initiative - devised by the (English) FIFA president. Whilst this indicates that Woolfall was convinced of the competency of British officials, it actually tells us little about how other FIFA members viewed those referees. In some senses, like numerous other FIFA requirements during the period, the appointment of British referees was foisted upon other FIFA members, regardless of whether or not they shared the belief in British referees‟ „superior abilities‟. Whilst Rous, like other members of the FA, was committed to the notion that the „British knew best‟, such in assessment seems to have been based, at least in part, on ideological assumptions, rather than a critical appraisal of refereeing standards.

Just as in England, other national associations were struggling to establish consensus on the way The Laws were interpreted. As such, the problems of interpretation which the FA had begun to address in England by the late 1880s (through the memorandum to referees in 1886, for example) were still

237 relatively „new‟ in other countries. By the mid 1930s, refereeing had become enough of an issue in Argentina for the Argentinean FA (AFA) to seek British help. In 1937 the AFA requested Ivan Sharpe10 to “arrange for the best available referee to go to Buenos Aires and demonstrate British methods of control” (Sharpe, 1952, 184; see also Aston, 1978, 189). Isaac Caswell was the man chosen to undertake the “dangerous task” (1952, 185). The AFA League had been formed in 1931, with 18 clubs. Then, record attendances of 30, 000 fans watched games, by 1939 up to 90, 000 spectators were watching (1952, 185). The problems faced by the AFA included “stone throwing and rioting” and “[p]olice, and even fire-brigades, had to be summoned to quell disturbances arising through the mobbing of players and referees” (Caswell, quoted in Sharpe, 1952, 185). Argentinean referees had been subject to accusations of bribery and partiality during the 1930s (Thompson, 1998, 80-81) and, significantly, these problems appear to have motivated the AFA to recruit the less „involved‟ British referees to oversee league fixtures. By the time Caswell arrived, the AFA had introduced the high wire fence to enclose spectators; “ten feet high... barbed at the top” (Caswell, quoted in Sharpe, 1952, 185) and by the 1950s, pitches were also surrounded by pits or moats (Sharpe, 1952, 185).

Caswell initially acted as an observer and then took charge of AFA league games during a three year stay. Caswell‟s initial realisation that “to introduce the British methods of control immediately would cause trouble” (quoted in Sharpe, 1952, 185) is indicative of the divergence between how the game was played and overseen in Britain and Argentina in 1937. Such a discrepancy is not surprising, for it was not until his departure that Caswell “persuaded [the AFA] to translate the British laws of play and distribute copies throughout the country” (quoted in Sharpe, 1952, 187). He felt “[c]hanges had to be administered in careful doses”, for:

There was rough play, incessant whistling by referees, frequent stoppages for injuries... constant

238 arguing with the referee, fights on the field and interventions by police... [some spectators] waited after the match to threaten or throw missiles. For six months my work was heartbreaking (Caswell, quoted in Sharpe, 1952, 186).

In 1948, eight referees from Britain were employed by the AFA to take charge of all first division matches in Argentina. By 1950, 12 British referees had been recruited, a policy which continued throughout the 1950s (Thompson, 1998, 83- 84). Whilst no formal training was given by these officials, they were each assigned three “„apprentice‟ [Argentinean] linesmen who would take charge of the reserve team match which preceded the first team fixture ... before running the line in the big game” (Thompson, 1998, 84). By 1954, these trainees were refereeing one first division match per week (Thompson, 1998, 85).

The AFA went to considerable lengths and expense to secure British officials to oversee their fixtures, a point which underlines their reputation and status in Argentina at this time. In December 1952, the AFA paid for a team of British officials to oversee a game between Argentina and Spain, a fact which prompted English referee, Arthur Ellis, to observe: “[t]hose people who criticize our referees might ponder over the fact that the Argentine are prepared to pay £1,600 to get three of our officials for one match” (Ellis, 1954, 156). British referees were occasionally subject to hostile treatment from fans in Argentina. Caswell, for example, was stoned after sending off a player in 1938 (Sharpe, 1952, 186), something also experienced by other referees during the period. In 1955, one English referee was warned in the local press that he should leave the country or “his wife would be killed” after he had dismissed a player (Thompson, 1998, 86). However, English referees‟ impartiality meant they were generally “well received by most clubs” (Thompson, 1998, 83 and 85). This view appears to have been shared by the South American administrators: in 1949, the Englishman Jack Barrick was chosen to referee 12 of the 29 games played in the South American Championship (Thompson, 1998, 91).

239

Referee Training in England Given the high status afford to British officials overseas by the 1940s, it might be assumed that the standards of training for referees had improved during the course of the 20th century in order to provide such „good‟ officials. In fact, remarkably little attention was paid to the development of refereeing during this period. The amateur ethos which underpinned resistance to the notion of players being coached was gradually shifting; for example, the first FA coaching course took place in 1936 (Wagg, 1984, 33). However, it was apparently more enduring when it came to referees. Ironically, whilst „the British method‟ was often referred to in the early to mid 20th century, as a result of this lack of guidance and training there were in fact significant differences between the way officials oversaw games. Issues around interpretation were still being dealt with by RAs at local levels, rather than being shaped by national policy. Even on the more rudimentary issue of how linesmen operated during games (i.e. what area of the pitch they covered) was subject to variation. It was not until 1935, for example, that the present „diagonal‟ system of refereeing was embodied in the Laws of the Game.

This „system‟ involves each linesman (now the assistant referees) running the line from the halfway line to the goal line on opposite sides of the pitch, rather than running the whole length of the pitch. This method was outlined by Pickford (1906d, 183), as an alternative to the apparently predominant practice of linesmen attempting to run the whole length of the pitch in order to be able to judge goal line incidents at both ends. As Pickford observed, this latter approach often resulted in linesmen being left behind “in the race for the other goal” (Pickford, 1906d, 183). As a consequence, it was clear to Pickford that “linesmen acting along the touchlines are not necessarily in the best position to see with accuracy the position of affairs on the goal-line” (1960d, 182). A proposal for the diagonal system to be universally adopted by Football League officials was made in 1909, but the fact that it was not made a requirement until 1935 indicates that, until then, various practices were used by officials

240 (Sutcliffe et al, 1938, 163). Indeed, Rous experienced “considerable criticism” (Rous, 1979, 32) when, as referee, he had first instructed linesmen to supervise play in this way in 1933. However, having successfully negotiated the 1934 Cup Final utilising the method, he submitted a “detailed memorandum and diagrams” to the FA. In 1935, the year after Rous became FA secretary, the FA “officially approved the system for all matches under its jurisdiction”. Rous‟s memorandum was subsequently included in the FA Referees Chart and FIFA‟s Universal Guide for Referees (Rous, 1979, 33).

As noted in Chapter Five, the FA had introduced a classification system for referees in 1927, thus providing formal structures for the promotion of officials through the leagues. And since 1920, Football League club secretaries had been required to report on match officials‟ performances. These remained the only methods for evaluating referees‟ performances until the 1960s. There was, however, acknowledgement that the partiality of involved clubs might limit the usefulness of such reports. For:

Some of the opinions expressed may be discounted by reason of a prejudiced attitude, but the committee are able to sift the evidence and arrive at something like a judicial appreciation of the work of the different officials (Sutcliffe, Brierley, and Howarth, 1938, 161).

Secretaries were also required to grade referees on a scale of 0 to 4. These marks were averaged out over the season and any referee “with records of under an average of 2 ½ [was] retired” (Sutcliffe et al, 1938, 163). Sutcliffe et al noted that no referee in the 1937-38 season had averaged less than 2 ½, “in spite of the fact that one or two of the clubs are not too easy to please or generous with their points” (Sutcliffe et al, 1938, 163). This aspect of evaluation was, then, also of limited usefulness and by 1956, Howarth, the Football League president, was acknowledging: “it is policy to ignore these reports unless a referee persistently receives low marks” (S&DRA minutes, 13/11/1956)11.

241

Marking systems were also in place in the lower leagues, thus, in theory, ensuring that the „best‟ officials were gradually promoted to the Football League. However, the evidence from local referees‟ associations indicates that this system was subject to local variation and inconsistency. One representative of the S&DRA, for example, suggested “[t]he selection of referees was abominable & recommendation by clubs ought to be abolished” (S&DRA minutes, 10/11/43). The Secretary of the AFLR&L suggested promotion to the Football League “not only counted on ability but also on the right kind of influence” (S&DRA minutes, 10/10/45). He recommended that if referees seeking promotion “could approach someone who could influence their application, to do so” (See also S&DRA minutes, 12/2/1936; 8/2/1939; 10/10/1945, 13/11/1956). There was no national policy to determine how county FAs should promote officials and as a consequence, one RA member argued: “county FAs were a law unto themselves” (RA minutes, 29/9/1956). Although examined by local FA officials when applying to become referees, by 1945 there was still no system of observation or assessment for practising officials (S&DRA minutes, 10/10/45). By 1963, the county FAs did provide assessors for the lower leagues, but again this system was, in practice, apparently rather hit and miss:

many County FAs take very little interest in the training of referees and are only interested in receiving their fees. It is perhaps significant that the majority of County FAs use assessors to decide on their referees‟ abilities, but, in many cases, the appointment of referees to Leagues rests on two or three, and sometimes one man only (letter from Hardaker (FL Secretary) to clubs, 9/1/1963, copy in RA minutes).

In general, then, the period up until the late 1940s was characterised by a lack of consideration of refereeing in England – again an indication that officiating had yet to be perceived as a significant problem by the game‟s administrators. One exception to this was the „two referees‟ experiment, undertaken in 1935.

242 That the „campaign‟ to test the two referee system was led by former player and prominent football journalist, Ivan Sharpe, hints at the beginnings of the significance of media personnel in shaping notions of refereeing problems. Sharpe began campaigning for trials of the two referee system in 1930. He suggested that the change to the offside law in 1925 increased the “number of break-away attacks .. leaving referees stranded, far behind the play. Goals were being awarded or disallowed from a distance of 30 or 40 yards. And there were many disputes in the land” (Sharpe, 1952, 190). The system involved each referee overseeing one half of the pitch, without linesmen. Support for Sharpe‟s campaign increased after an incident in the 1932 Cup Final between Arsenal and Newcastle, during which Newcastle scored an equaliser moments after the ball had gone out of play. The Arsenal players had relaxed, anticipating a goal kick. However, the referee did not see the ball crossing the line, play continued and Newcastle scored and went on to win the match. The incident was captured on film, revealing that the referee‟s decision not to award a goal kick was incorrect12. The significance of „television‟ in the construction and perception of refereeing „problems‟, of which this is an early example, are discussed in more depth in the remaining chapters.

After the Cup Final, “[c]ontroversy raged” and there “was a clamour for goal- judges” (Sharpe, 1952, 190). It seems likely that the problems highlighted by Sharpe coupled with this high profile incident were key factors which motivated the FA to consider experimenting with an alternative refereeing system. For, for the FA members to consider altering the system of refereeing suggests that there was a perceived problem with the existing system which the FA were seeking to address. However given that this was „all‟ the FA did, it seems that members of the governing body were still relatively untroubled by refereeing issues. Just a year after the diagonal system had been embodied in The Laws, the FA sanctioned trials of the two referee system. Three games were played under the system in England: England v The Rest, the FA v West Bromwich Albion and a North v South Amateur International (Thompson,

243 1998, 41. See also Signy, 1971, 48). All were refereed by Eddie Wood, the 1933 Cup Final referee, and Dr A Barton (Thompson, 1998, 41) and were watched by members of the FA Council and the IFAB (Green, 1953, 560). Trails also took place in (Thompson, 1998, 41), Italy and Austria (Sharpe, 1952, 191). Wood and Barton‟s “candid views” (Witty, 1960d, 184) on the experiment were presented in reports to the FA (Green, 1953, 560) and these, “coupled with a very pronounced opposition by a big majority of all types of clubs” (Witty, 1960d, 184. See also Green, 1953, 560) meant the system was not adopted. In fact, the Football League Management Committee proposed the scheme should be tried out in the First and Second Division for a year. The proposal was defeated by 7 votes (Sharpe, 1952, 191)13 suggesting that, at the elite level, opposition to the scheme was not as pronounced as Witty suggests. That there was a relatively high degree of support for the scheme at Football League level again hints that there was some dissatisfaction with the standard of elite level officiating at his time.

Post World War Two, the FA did begin to pay more attention to the issue of refereeing. In 1946 the FA Council outlined proposals, “[t]o organise central and regional refresher courses to train players, reaching the end of their careers, as coaches and referees” (Green, 1960c, 97), a policy which Rous was still pursuing some years later, apparently without success (See RU minutes, 29/4/1950 and Annual conference report, 1950). In 1947, the first of a series of conferences “to study the whole question of refereeing” was organised by the FA at Bisham Abbey (Lovick, 1963, 38). Overseen by Commander Beetham, Chairman of the FA Referees‟ Committee and J. R. Witty, these courses were one aspect of the national coaching schemes in England, initiated by Rous. In 1948, the FA produced an illustrated version of the Laws of the Game, followed in 1949 by How to Become a Referee. These publications represented a more concerted effort by the FA to educate referees about the Laws of the Game, a process, as we have seen, which was initiated in the 1870s by Alcock14. A number of manuals and educational texts for referees were published in

244 subsequent years, detailing The Laws and their interpretation, illustrated examples and discussions of the „spirit‟ and the „letter‟ of The Laws15. Yet with the exception of these educational publications and relatively infrequent conferences, the FA took little action to improve the standard of officiating. Similarly, how widely diffused the early publications were is also in doubt. By 1962, RA members were expressing concern that the 1958 FA Course of Training for Referees, “an invaluable guide for all instructors” had “never [been] seen” by “many Referee Societies” (Report on FA Course of Training for Referee Instructors Lilleshall, 1962, RA archive, reproduced in Appendix 7). Although Rous had “stressed the need for improving the standard of refereeing” in 1950 (RA minutes, 16/6/1950), responsibility for this task was largely devolved to the RA. The RA, still run by volunteers and financially constrained, was left to rue the status of officials in England. One RA member observed that the FA could spend:

„thousands‟ on grants and for various coaching schemes, but could not find the cash, nor the desire to run a course for referees. He thought the FA still contemptuous of referees – so far as the FA was concerned they were still the „Aunt Sallies‟ of the game (RA minutes, 23/6/1956).

Whilst Green observed that “the British referee... stands high in the estimation of the world” (1953, 560), clearly not all referees felt as highly valued „at home‟. The RA‟s complaints were addressed in 1958, when the FA held the first of what became annual courses for referee instructors (see RA Annual Report 1959). These represented the FA‟s first comprehensive efforts at developing national training for county referee instructors and, as the report attached in Appendix 7 indicates, by the 1960s the FA were finally offering clear and explicit direction to referees about how they should oversee the game.

When Rous became FIFA president in 1961, he introduced similar formal coaching schemes for referees around the world. Thus the South American „training‟ was “repeated many times over in countries where football at a

245 “high competitive level [was] comparatively new” (Aston, 1978, 189). FIFA Lecturers, such as England‟s , travelled widely, “sometimes spending two weeks in one place with referees concentrated there for a course, and sometimes undertaking an extensive tour staying at each place perhaps only two days” (Aston, 1978, 189). Whilst the brevity of these trips probably limited their effectiveness, they at least represented the beginnings of a coherent policy to diffuse the (British shaped) FIFA model of how The Laws were meant to be applied. However, as we shall see in the following chapter, in many ways these interventions were „too little, too late‟. For, the lack of a coherent policy until this point had, as noted, resulted in significant differences in the application and interpretation of The Laws internationally. What might be described as deeply rooted cultural differences had become firmly established playing and refereeing practices and it would take more than the occasional FIFA seminar to begin to address them. The FIFA and FA courses to encourage universal interpretation merely scratched the surface of this problem. In the following chapter, the way these differences became identified as a „problem‟ is discussed via an analysis of the World Cup between 1930 to 1994.

1 Other sports, such as rugby and cricket were also played by migrant British workers, some of which were adopted, some adapted and some rejected by indigenous populations (see for example: Riesman and Denney, 1954; Cashman, 1988; Jable, 1988; Odendaal, 1988; Stoddart, 1988). 2 Rous and Ford (1974, 48) give the following dates: Denmark and the Netherlands, 1889; Argentina, 18893; Belgium and Switzerland, 1895; Italy, 1898; Germany, 1899; Hungary, Norway and Uruguay, 1900. They also note that “Associations of the British Dominions such as New Zealand, India, South Africa, Gibraltar and Malta” were all “established before 1900”. 3 http://www.fifa.com /en/organisation/historyfifa.html, 23/2/03. The Statutes also set down the following: the reciprocal and exclusive recognition of the National Associations represented and attending; clubs and players were forbidden to play simultaneously for different National Associations; recognition by the other Associations of a player‟s suspension announced by an Association. 4 The establishment of the Professional Game Match Officials Board Ltd (PGMOB) in 2001 provided a structure for the FA, the Premier League and the Football League to formally „share‟ responsibility for the appointment of referees - although the degree of FA influence on such issues is, in practice, questionable. This issue is more fully explored in Chapter Ten. 5 Presidents of FIFA: Robert Guérin France 1904-1906 Daniel Woolfall England 1906-1918 France 1921-1954 Rodolfe Seeldrayers Belgium 1954-1955 England 1956-1961 Stanley Rous England 1961-1974 Joào Havelange Brazil 1974-1998 Sweden 1998-

246

(Source: http://www.FIFA.com/en/organisation/president/presidents.html, 23/2/03). 6 There has been a challenge to another historical „legacy‟: the permanent entitlement of a FIFA vice presidency for a British representative. In contrast to the other 23 elected members, the British associations are automatically entitled to a position on FIFA‟s executive committee. This „right‟ was established in 1946, when the British associations agreed to play a „Great Britain versus the Rest of Europe‟ match. FIFA‟s funds has been severely depleted during the Second World War and in „exchange‟ for the permanent vice presidency all profits from the match were given to FIFA. The head of the Concacaf Federation (covering North and Central America), Jack Warner unsuccessfully attempted to challenge the British automatic entitlement in 1999, meeting resistance from Blatter and the former FIFA president, Havelange, who asked: “ Who invented football? England. Who created the laws? England. Why shouldn‟t they have a special right?„ (in Andrew Conradi, The Guardian Online, 9/ 2/1999. See also The Times, 10/0 1/ 1999; 27/01/99 and The Electronic Telegraph 17/01/ 1999). 7 FIFA Membership: Year Members Year Members Year Members Year Members 1904 7 1920 20 1931 42 1979 146 1910 18 1927 37 1938 51 1984 150 1914 24 1929 44 1954 81 2000 204 (Source: Egcenberger, 1986, pp. 411-412 and Beck, 2000, 114,) 8 The game was between Viareggio and Lucca. Such an incident points to the fact that a cross-cultural examination of „refereeing related violence might provide useful insights into the long- term development of refereeing issues. Thompson (1998, pp. 76-78) and Sharpe (1952, pp. 185-187) discuss assaults on referees in Argentina in the mid 20th century. On his return from World Cup duty in Brazil in 1950, Griffiths told an enquirer they could “forget the stories of riots and shooting”, but read weeks later that a referee had been attacked “in Rio riots after a soccer match” (1958, 45). Several serious overseas incidents were also reported in The Times, including: an assault on a referee (29/9/1938) and the relegation of clubs for bribery and „fixing‟ a result in Italy (8/8/55); injury to a British referee in Argentina (29/11/55); a Uruguayan referee being beaten to death by a player (14/10/69) and; attempts to „stone‟ an association football referee in Sydney, Australia (21/4/69). Although clearly these examples are few and far between, they do point to potentially useful avenues for further research. Likewise, Hays‟s (1999, 24) citation of an incident in Australian Rules Football in 1920, where a police officer drew his revolver to prevent an attack on an umpire, points to the potential for empirical investigations into other sports to shed light on the development of officiating problems. 9 The other members were Dr Mauro of Italy, Henri Delaunay of France and Dr Peco Bauwens of Germany (Rous, 1979, 127). 10 Sharpe played for numerous Football League clubs, the English Amateur International side and the United Kingdom side which won the Olympic Games football competition in 1912 (Sharpe, 1952, 20). He was also a football journalist, editing the Athletic News from 1924 (1952, 35). He travelled internationally in this role and, presumably, it was through this work that the AFA made contact with him. 11 This policy appears to have persisted, suggesting that the use of club marks at the elite level is little more than a token gesture. In an interview with Philip Don, the then FA Premier League Referees‟ Officer, I asked: “are the marks that the clubs provide and the match observer provides given equal weight?” Don replied: “[I]f I was to take the average observers‟ mark and the average club mark, you‟re looking at there being a difference of at least 2 marks. The other concern is where you can have a game and one club will mark a referee 1 or 2, the other club may mark him 7 or 8 [out of 10]. So you‟ve got to question the variance in using such a wide differential like that between club marks, and that‟s the difficulty we have” (interview with Philip Don, 1/2/2001). 12 The Daily Telegraph headline read “Cup Final Controversy ends Arsenal‟s „double‟ dream” Alongside two „overhead‟ still photos of the incident, the article reported the referee‟s comments: ““As God is my judge the ball was in play. I was eight yards away”” The report added “[b]ut if British Movietone were judge, the ball was clearly over the line and the referee was 20 yards away!” (in Barrett, 1996, 49). 13 Calls were made for the system to be tried out again in 1999 (The Independent Online, 28/01/1999). 14 See Seddon, 1995, pp. 243-246 for a useful bibliography of publications on the Laws of the Game. 15 See, for example: The Football Association (1962; 2002) Lovick (1963), Clough (1963), Howell (1968), Lover (1978; 1980; 1984), Ager (1994), Ring (1994) and The Referees‟ Association (1997). See also the American „manuals‟: Harris and Harris (1978) and Mathurin (1996 and 1998).

247 Chapter Eight:

The World Cup & Violent Play

This chapter continues to explore the development of refereeing in an international context through an examination of the World Cup tournaments from 1930 through to the 1990s. Initially I explore the perceived differences in styles of play and interpretation of The Laws which became apparent as football spread globally. I explore the ways in which differences in interpretation created problems for referees and players, revisiting ideas about the need for a „shared understanding‟ which was first raised in Chapter Four. Once more I draw attention to the ways in which the need to interpret The Laws generates possibilities for conflict been those overseeing games and those playing them. In particular, the conflicting ideologies between the game‟s international administrators and those overseeing and playing games is explored. In this context, the emergence of „violent play‟ as an issue, initially in the press and subsequently for FIFA is then explored.

The next section of this chapter looks at the way FIFA eventually began to attempt to address these differences and to promote an universal interpretation of The Laws. In particular, the increasingly explicit training offered to match officials involved in the World Cup tournaments is explored. The problems raised by referees‟ resistance to instructions on interpretation are highlighted. Here, the ways referees may share players‟ ideological views on „how‟ football should be played, rather than the FIFA or FA „view‟ are explored in depth. The way in which the game‟s administrators at an international level have addressed this problem is then explored. The methods through which FIFA have increasingly constrained referees in order to ensure the Laws of the Game are interpreted in line with their view of how the game should be played is examined in the next section. The shifting relationships between the international governing body and national associations are also highlighted in this discussion.

248

Attention is then paid to FIFA‟s selection policies for referees at the World Cup. Here, the way in which FIFA‟s adoption of more „democratic‟ selection policies has resulted in relatively inexperienced referees overseeing important, high profile fixtures is discussed. The unintended consequences of this policy, in terms of its impact on the general „standard‟ of refereeing and match control are explored in this regard. Next, the changes in FIFA disciplinary procedures are discussed. The failure to recognise an „underlying‟ disciplinary problem is initially considered, followed by an examination of FIFA‟s relatively ineffective attempts to ensure players played in line with FIFA „fair play‟ guidelines. Finally in this chapter, FIFA‟s relatively more successful „authoritarian‟ approach to tackling violent play is examined. Players‟ adoption of alternative strategies for circumventing The Laws, whilst avoiding being sent off are then considered.

The World Cup: Early Tournaments The inaugural 1930 World Cup was held in Uruguay, winners of the 1924 and 1928 Olympic tournaments (Egcenberger, 1986, 410). Whilst Thompson (1999, 47) suggests that FIFA “attempted to streamline officialdom in preparation for the coming of the international era, heralded by the first ever World Cup”, such an assessment does not seem to be supported by the empirical evidence. The financial and organisational constraints, noted in Chapter Seven, which restricted FIFA‟s efforts to promote universal refereeing practices also affected the way the first World Cup competitions were overseen. For the first tournaments, FIFA devolved responsibility for referees‟ travel costs and expenses to the host nations (Thompson, 1998, 57). It is not, then, surprising that the majority of the referees involved in the inaugural tournament were recruited locally, for the trip from Europe to Uruguay involved a three week journey by sea (Glanville, 1979, 49).

At this stage, only referees from competing countries were eligible to referee. In 1930, ten South American referees were involved – four of them from

249 Uruguay - along with two Belgian officials and one from France (Thompson, 1998, 55). The prolonged and costly journey to Uruguay also restricted European team involvement, for example Italy, Austria, Spain and Germany did not participate (Glanville, 1979, 49). Despite England‟s absence from FIFA during this period, they were invited to send a team to compete, but declined (Walvin, 2001, 110). In fact, although there were 41 FIFA members in 1930, only 13 teams were involved, six of which were South American based (Thompson, 1998, 55 and 57). There was, as we have seen, no „international‟ training for referees at this stage, but the South American Football Confederation did organise its first meeting for officials in 1929 (Thompson, 1998, 79). The practical problems which limited European involvement in the inaugural tournament similarly restricted South American officials‟ participation in Italy in 1934 and France in 1938 (Thompson, 1998,57).

The appointment of officials to the early World Cup competitions was, then, largely shaped by practical constraints. Coupled with this, just as Woolfall had „promoted‟ British referees, the more influential FIFA members appear to have appointed „their own‟ officials. For example, the Belgian, Seeldrayers was FIFA vice president in 1930, when his compatriot, Langenus, oversaw the final between Uruguay and Argentina (Thompson, 1998, 48). Langenus, described by Rous (1979, 38) as the best continental referee of the period, refereed more games in the first three World Cups than any other official. Two other Belgians, Christophe & Baert also oversaw several games in the 1930-1938 competitions (Thompson, 1998, 56). French officials dominated the 1938 competition, again apparently an outcome of convenience and the French influence on FIFA, which was headed by Rimet from 1921-1954 (Thompson, 1998, 56). Similarly, the Swiss, Dutch, Swedish and Spanish influence on the FIFA board was reflected in the disproportionate number of officials from those countries overseeing World Cup games in 1934 and 1938 (Thompson, 1998 56).

250 The limited available evidence on the early World Cup competitions suggests, not surprisingly, that the officiating was of variable standard. For example, several incidents of incorrect factual decisions occurred during the early tournaments, probably as a consequence of the lack of training for officials and the „overwhelming‟ experience of officiating in such an event. Thompson notes (1998, 50) that a Brazilian referee in the 1930 finals ended the game between Argentina and France five minutes before full time had elapsed, having to restart the game after a pitch invasion. And in the same tournament, Chilean referee, Alberto Walken, sent off the wrong player in the game between Peru and Romania, after a Peruvian had broken the leg of one of his opponents. In 1934 the Swiss referee, Mercet, oversaw Italy‟s 1-0 win over Spain, apparently incorrectly disallowing Spain two goals for offside. Mercet was subsequently suspended by the Swiss FA (Thompson, 1998, 52).

The early tournaments also appear to have been characterised by relatively high levels of violence. In 1938, for example, in the „Battle of Bordeaux‟ between Brazil and Czechoslovakia, a Czech player had his leg broken, for which Procopio was sent off, whilst two other players were dismissed after a fist fight and the Czech goalkeeper played most of game with a broken arm (Thompson, 1998, 54-55). At this stage, with relatively little media coverage of games, the often violent nature of matches, whilst not going unnoticed, had yet to be perceived as a significant problem by the game‟s administrators. With the advent of televised coverage of the World Cup games and massive international audiences, the issue of violent play came to be identified as a more significant issue from the 1960s onwards, which is addressed later in this chapter.

As Thompson (1998, 53) suggests, the experience of refereeing the early World Cup games must have been daunting. Coupled with the difficulties posed by travelling to and staying in foreign countries, such as the language barriers, games were attended by record numbers of partisan supporters. International football contests had begun to take on political significance, in a context

251 where Communist and Fascist regimes were keen to strengthen their national identities (see Wagg, 1984, 27-29). Although not in a World Cup game, Rous‟s first experience of refereeing an international game in Italy in the 1930s, for example, gives an indication of the type of conditions under which such matches were played. The game:

was played in an atmosphere of frenzied emotion and nationalist fervour... Not even could have given the impression of more fevered dedication to winning, and it required some effort to remain aloof and unaffected by the emotive pressure (Rous, 1979, 39).

The „rewards‟ offered to players under such regimes in part explains why games were often characterised by a relatively high degree of violence in international fixtures. Wagg (1984, 28), for example, notes that the Italian players involved in what became known as the „Battle of Highbury‟ against England in 1934 were promised “around £150, and Alfa Romeo car and exemption from military service if they won”. Likewise, Griffiths (1958, 44) suggested the Brazilian players were “on a bonus of £1000, a motor-car and a plot of ground on which to build a summer house” if they won the World Cup in Brazil in 1950. The significance of winning or losing games was, then, often high for those involved in these contests. This, coupled with cultural variations in the level of violence tolerated (discussed later in this chapter) often led to contests which, in comparison with contemporary elite level international football, were relatively violent. The increasing significance and seriousness of international competition in the post Second World War period can be understood as a key factor which eventually led FIFA to address the standard of refereeing. These issues are addressed in detail below.

British referees were first involved in World Cup competition in Brazil in 1950. In June 1950, just prior to the start of the competition, the IFAB introduced the requirement that all international matches must be refereed by neutral officials (Thompson, 1998, 55). Again, this parallels developments in the English game, for as games became increasingly serious, so the need for

252 relatively detached officials was stipulated in the rules of the governing bodies. Along with the English team and the English referees (, Reg Leafe and Arthur Ellis), the Welsh and Scottish officials, Mervyn Griffiths and George Mitchell, also travelled to Brazil (Griffiths, 1958, 40), becoming the first men to referee in a World Cup without their national team (Thompson, 1998, 58). British officials dominated the 1950 tournament: out of the 22 games played, ten were handled by the British officials - including the final, which was refereed by Reader (Thompson, 1998, 58). The over representation of British officials in the 1950 tournament was the start of a trend which lasted until 1978, during which time British officials oversaw more games than any others, including taking charge of three finals (in 1950, 1954 and 1974).

Problems Caused by Divergent Refereeing and Playing Practices At the invitation of the FA, the European referees involved in the 1950 World Cup met for a day‟s conference in England prior to the tournament. The aim was to ensure The Laws were “interpreted as written” (Griffiths, 1958, 38) – in other words, in line with the British interpretation. Once again, presumably due to the cost of travel, non-Europeans were „excluded‟ from this conference. In 1954, all referees met for a two day conference prior to the start of the tournament to “obtain uniformity of rulings” (Griffiths, 1958, 72). Such brief meetings can hardly have been adequate to address what were, by then, well established, culturally shaped differences in interpretation. But the very fact that FIFA members organised pre-tournament discussions indicates that they were at least aware that differences in interpretation existed and that they might prove problematic. The 1947 FA Cup Final referee, Jim Wiltshire, highlighted what he saw as the key differences:

Certainly the most difficult games to handle, again in respect of rule interpretation, are those between British and Continental teams. On the continent charging the goalkeeper when in possession of the ball is considered „taboo‟. Sometimes shirtpulling and childish handling of the ball are countenanced, but it will not be long before these difficulties are ironed out (Wiltshire, 1948, 86-87).

253

Observing that there were “different interpretations of the laws in various countries”, Griffiths (1958, 38) noted that the “law that caused most discussion” during the pre-tournament meetings in 1950 was that regarding the charging of the goalkeeper (see also Griffiths, 1958, 90 and; Ellis, 1962, 17). With four British referees covering a high proportion of games at both the 1950 and 1954 tournaments1, including the opening games (Griffiths, 1958, 40 and 72), the British officials were in a position to ensure that their interpretation of The Laws remained predominant. And, with the continued acceptance from FIFA that the British interpretation of The Laws was „the right one‟, despite an apparently fairly widespread resistance from players and referees abroad, the charge on the goalkeeper was endorsed by British officials. Wiltshire advised his British readers:

Do encourage the use of the shoulder charge, but see that it is delivered on the shoulder. The critics of soccer sometimes claim the game is „pansified‟ . It is the duty of all referees to hold the balance and allow the strong stuff, but cutting out anything that tends to viciousness (Wiltshire, 1948, 94).

By the 1960s, however, the task of „applying‟ The Laws in line with the British interpretation caused increasing problems for British officials. By 1962, Ellis was acknowledging that the „resistance‟ to the charge on the goalkeeper from players abroad made refereeing in line with the British interpretation extremely problematic:

It is a world game and I believe the time is long over-due for FIFA to get down to sorting out the problems of charging goalkeepers once and for all. ... charging must be cut out if only to reduce controversy and make the task of the referee in British-Continental games easier. As it is, it is thankless (Ellis, 1962, 98).

Ellis had written to Rous in 1959 to suggest the charge – which he had come to see as an “out-dated, over estimated legacy from „jungle‟ football” - should be prohibited in The Laws. The reply from Rous “to the effect that it was a

254 British game, that Continental teams knew our rules and should adhere to them” (Ellis, 1962, 139) is further evidence of the enduring „British know best attitude‟. However, the extent to which Rous, through the IFAB and his influence on FIFA, could „control‟ the way The Laws were interpreted across the globe was minimal. Indeed, as discussed previously, members of the FA had relatively little control over the way The Laws were interpreted in England at this stage. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that they were that able to exert even less control over referees and players in the international football figuration. Despite Rous‟s ideological commitment to the English style of play, because referees abroad did not share that ideology, English players „adapted‟ their game in order to conform to the more prevalent interpretation. For, as Ellis observed:

English International teams abroad dropped their charging of the goalkeeper to conform with foreign feelings on the subject (Ellis, 1962, 139).

This example indicates that, despite the formal „authority‟ of the game‟s governing bodies, at this stage the balance of power was weighted heavily in favour of players and referees to determine which practices were acceptable. Referees remained relatively unconstrained by FIFA and therefore sanctioned particular offences in their own countries which were not necessarily sanctioned elsewhere. As noted, in the absence of significant intervention from FIFA, different „styles‟ of play had become established practices. As such, it was not only in terms of the charge on the goalkeeper that such differences were apparent. Ellis observed:

By our standards, we tackle fairly, but not to the foreigner. We shoulder charge. We use the sliding tackle. They [„the continentals‟] won‟t accept either (Ellis, 1962, 29-30. See also Griffiths, 1958, 90).

And:

At home our referees apply the advantage rule whenever they can, but it would be unwise to do so in central or South

255 America because the value of the rule is not appreciated. A player considers that if he has been fouled he should be awarded a free kick (Ellis, 1962, 51).

Ellis in particular identified a range of offences which “the foreigner” indulged in. Whilst in the mid 1950s he had admired the way South American players “give hard knocks and take hard knocks” with “little squealing” (Ellis, 1954, 58), by 1962 he was critical of their “body-checking, shirt tugging and other forms of obstructing” (Ellis, 1962, 53). He noted the South American players‟ tendency to “spoil most of [their skill] by their inability to resist deliberate handling when they cannot reach the ball, by their love of the unfair push or jersey pull and by their devotion to obstruction” (Ellis, 1954, 108). He also suggested referees “had to watch the way they lie down and feign serious injury when they just want a rest” (Ellis, 1954, 177).

It is difficult to know how accurate Ellis‟s observations of foreign players were and, indeed, whether the implicit implication that English players did not indulge in such tactics was a fair assessment. Given the evidence cited in Chapter Five on the emergent football subculture at the beginning of the 20th century, it is more likely that Ellis was accustomed to different forms of foul play in England – and so those practised abroad seemed „unusual‟ and noteworthy. In other words, diverse forms of foul play developed in different cultures. The British referees in South America in the 1940s and 1950s experienced first hand different attitudes towards violent play than they had been accustomed to. Games were frequently disrupted by brawls and violent confrontation and, as Thompson notes, “[f]irmness simply resulted in retaliation which in turn often led to abandonment or... pitch invasion” (1998, 89). During an eight and a half month period in Brazil in 1949, the English referee, Barrick, sent off 19 players in 91 games. In comparison, in his 23 year Football League refereeing career he had sent off just six players (Thompson, 1998, 92).

256 However, Ellis‟s view of South American players was not shared by all. Griffiths (1958, 49), who oversaw the England – Argentina international in 1951, suggested the spectators had been “roused by newspaper articles referring to the tough type of play indulged in by the Argentineans”. Despite these expectations, he noted “[w]hatever may have been the conduct of the players when they were at home, their behaviour at Wembley was exemplary... No one could question the sportsmanship of the visitors” (Griffiths, 1958, 49). Whilst there is certainly some evidence to support Ellis‟s analysis of south American players, his comments about “the foreigner” also appear to have been informed by a degree of xenophobia and, as such, may represent something of an over-generalisation As we shall see later in this chapter, views such as those expressed by Ellis were widely shared by English media personnel, referees and other players.

The social and cultural context of post war Britain probably goes some way to explaining these sentiments, but Ellis‟s views were also shaped by two significant experiences of refereeing games involving South American players. The first was the 1954 World Cup game between Brazil and Hungary, which is discussed later in this chapter, the second occurred in 1956. Then the San Lorenzo player, San Fillipo, ran across the pitch in a game Ellis was refereeing and “deliberately took a kick at [Ellis‟s] legs” (Ellis, 1962, 38). He refused to leave the pitch when sent off and so Ellis abandoned the match. Such examples indicate that, coupled with diverse playing styles, referees faced problems caused by more general „indiscipline‟, and a reluctance to accept referees‟ authority. In Ellis‟s words, there was a sense in which players felt they could “do as they wish[ed] and that referees [had] no right to stop them” (Ellis, 1962, 37). In a context where international competition was becoming increasingly significant, the lack of FIFA intervention in terms of punishing players and training referees, coupled with the emergence of this „attitude‟ goes some way to explaining why World Cup games were often characterised by relatively high levels of violence.

257

World Cup Football 1954-1990 In 1950, Jules Rimet addressed the FIFA congress after 30 years as FIFA president, identifying what he saw as the qualities of football:

Discipline freely consented to - team discipline - discipline required by the rules, by the decisions of the referee... Loyalty to the spirit of the game, fairness to the adversary, is perhaps the most remarkable quality of football; without it a match would be devoid of all meaning and would return to the condition of the barbarous games of antiquity (quoted in Rous, 1979, 132).

As the examples previously cited in this chapter indicate, the ideological framework which guided the FIFA administrators, like their FA counterparts before and since, often appears to have had little resonance with many of those playing the game. The evidence on the way many World Cup games were played, discussed below, provides significant evidence to support this claim. For, most of the tournaments during the 20th century were characterised by relatively violent play which often seems to have gone unpunished by referees or by FIFA. In part it seems members of the governing body were „blinded‟ to the problem by their own ideological commitments to the „spirit of the game‟. As we shall see later in this chapter, FIFA administrators did little to address this issue until the 1990s which, in the British press at least, had been identified as a „problem‟ by the mid 1950s.

The Brazil – Hungary game in the 1954 tournament described in as the „Battle of Berne‟ in The Times2, was “the most disgraceful football match [Ellis] ever refereed” (Ellis, 1962, 156). The game was, for Ellis, initially a “a brilliant display of football” and had been trouble free with the exception of “the odd outbreak of shirt-pulling” – or short-pulling, for one incident resulted in a player playing “for a couple of minutes without pants” (Ellis, 1954, 174). However, midway through the second half, a foul was followed by retaliation and two players engaged in a fist fight and were sent off. Ellis was then forced to send off another player in the last minute of the game, for:

258

Humberto, the Brazilian inside-right ... must have jumped at least four yards onto Buzanski, the Hungarian right-back, and the miracle was that Buzanski was ever able to get to his feet again (Ellis, 1954, 175).

Towards the end of the match, a “running fight took place among players of both sides” (Griffiths, 1958, 76) which continued until after the final whistle was blown. There were chaotic scenes – “pandemonium” (Griffiths, 1958, 76) - with bottles being thrown in the players‟ tunnel. The “gutter fighting” of the “temperamental and excitable” players (Ellis, 1962, 156) was astonishing to Ellis, who had never previously sent a player off in any of the “many” international matches he had handled. However, FIFA took no further action other than to refer the matter to the respective national associations. FIFA‟s lack of intervention in 1954 was, for Ellis, an indication that “the referee did not have the full backing of FIFA”, leading him to conclude – after his retirement – that “FIFA was an abbreviation for the Fiddling Institute of Fumbling Associations” (1962, 157).

Perhaps because, as Ellis indicates, such sendings off were relatively rare at this stage, FIFA had yet to identify a need to establish formal disciplinary processes to deal with such incidents during World Cup tournaments, a situation which was addressed by 1964 (Rous, 1979, 158). That they had not done so previously might also be explained in terms of the balance of power between the international body and national associations, which was weighted in favour of the latter at this stage. Thus, again, in parallel with the development of the game in England, FIFA had yet to establish enough authority and the support of its members for them to grant the international body the right to define disciplinary procedures and punishments in international football. That FIFA eventually took over responsibility for deciding on punishments for international players is indicative of a shift in those power relationships. It also suggests that national bodies were not imposing sufficient disciplinary penalties on their own players. For, it was not

259 necessarily in the interests of national association members to penalise their own players for misconduct during international games. Just as a „need‟ was gradually identified for those overseeing games to be less „involved‟ (i.e., neutral), so similar processes were extended to the disciplinary procedures.

Violent Play With the increased media coverage of the World Cup tournaments, violent play came to be identified as a significant issue which eventually led FIFA to introduce measures to address it. It is only possible to provide a brief overview of this issue here. The evidence which emerges from an analysis of coverage of successive tournaments in The Times is that games were often characterised by violent tackles and foul play from the 1960s through to the 1994 tournament - at which point FIFA began to take more proactive steps to address the problem. Partly as an aspect of civilising trends and the concomitant heightened sensitivity toward violence (Elias, 1994; 1986b; Dunning and Sheard, 1979) and partly as a result of a the increasing press coverage of football, „violent play‟ came to achieve „problem status‟ around the 1960s. Thus, the following analysis is largely based on reports from the 1960s onwards, by which point coverage of football had become more comprehensive. It is important to note that this analysis is not based on retrospective accounts „looking back‟ at the styles of play, which might be informed by different prevailing attitudes and sensitivities towards violence. Rather, the contemporary newspaper accounts from each tournament identify violent foul play as an issue „at the time‟3. Below, some examples which illustrate this point are discussed4. It also is important to note that in many of the earlier accounts, it is player indiscipline which is criticised and not refereeing standards. The way in which this has shifted in recent years are explored in the following chapter. All references are from The Times, unless otherwise stated.

As with Ellis‟s account of „the continentals‟, accounts of foreign sides‟ violent play in The Times were often imbued with xenophobic undertones (although

260 this analysis is, of course, retrospective). As Critcher notes in relation to the 1966 England World Cup victory, the win was taken to mean “a triumph of traditional English virtues... We did not, so we like to believe, resort to the underhand tactics of lesser nations; even our brutality was honest” (Critcher, 1994, 86-7. See also, Critcher (1991)). As such, the „British‟ style of play was not often condemned in the press. Rather, British teams were often seen as „hard but fair‟, whilst foreign sides might be said to have been seen as „hard but unfair‟. Thus, in 1954, the “delicate, well-oiled machine” of the Austrian team “in no way relished the enthusiasm and hard tackling of the Scots” (17/6/54). Russian tackling was seen as “unethical [and] tough” in 1958 (9/6/58), whilst “[e]very man of England was a hero.... All the Brazilians‟ sensitivity was clamped down by swift tackling”(12/6/58). In 1962 the “[t]raditionally hard and resolute but fair” English made “a host of friends... with the spirit of their play” (7/6/62). It is, of course, impossible to „know‟ to what extent British teams avoided the “unethical”, “tough” tackling of their foreign counterparts. However, „reading between the lines‟ it seems probable that the “hard tackling” of the Scots and the “hard and resolute” English play were simply different „versions‟ of the same phenomena: violent play5. In not critiquing these aspect of the British game in the same way they did foreign „styles‟, it might be argued that the British reporters were, perhaps, blinded by their commitment to the home nations6. Descriptions of games involving teams from South America were often rather more illuminating, such as the following from the 1966 tournament:

So long as they do not lose they do not worry whether spectators or opponents are bruised by their play.... once [the Argentineans] snapped into the tackle they were tough and venomous. They knew just where to apply their weight and their boot. Whenever the Germans began to look dangerous the Argentines used every trick of tripping, wrestling or foot over the ball... Albrecht floored Weber in full stride by jabbing a knee in his groin. This was Albrecht‟s third crude foul and had none of the sly sophistication of his fellows (The Times, 18/7/66).

261 By 1966, South American sides – with the exception of Brazil – were seen to be “killing the game ... not least by undisciplined, cynical behaviour and flaunting of authority” (25/7/66). Again, such accounts were probably, in part, informed by prevailing prejudices towards foreign players, which may have led to some exaggeration in English descriptions of „foreigners‟‟ violent play. However, the physical „evidence‟ of injury to players points to the fact that play was relatively violent. The Brazilian, Pele, who had been subject to rough treatment in the 1962 tournament (7/6/62), was similarly treated in 1966:

we only had half an hour of [Pele], for a third cruel tackle in that spell left a winged, largely helpless, figure down the left wing... [he] could still do some magic on one leg... a wounded, sad figure.... [Portugal‟s] Vicente had one job clearly marked out – he was to be the jailer dogging Pele‟s every footstep. Unfortunately he and one or two others took their duties too far, finally crippling the great man. The tackling all through was merciless. ... having demolished the king a great sadness came over the night (The Times, 20/7/66).

The England – Argentina game in the 1966 competition was described as a; “Travesty of Football”, characterised by “pushing, jostling, chopping, holding and tripping”. The Argentinean, Rattin, refused to leave the field when he was sent off, leading to seven minutes of “bedlam” as “players and officials jostled on the field”. Ramsey infamously suggested the Argentinean players had “act[ed] as animals”, although it was noted that “the England players themselves were not entirely blameless – conceding perhaps as many free- kicks as the Argentines before half-time” (25/7/66). In fact, this represents something of an understatement, for, as Critcher (1994, 81) notes, “subsequent attempts to blame the Argentineans... ignored the foul count: nineteen against Argentina, thirty three against England”. Critcher (1994, 81) also notes that England‟s Nobby Stiles had “flattened a French player off the ball” in the game against France. At the same tournament, the Uruguayan, Cortes, was suspended for six games, having kicked the referee who had taken charge of

262 the Uruguay – West Germany game, during which two Uruguayans had been sent off (26/7/66).

By 1982, reporters were still ruing the “more unattractive and hidden features” of games, such as “[s]pitting, punching, holding and kicking” (10/7/82). National stereotypes were still employed to describe foul play by the late 1980s, for example; “South Korea should stick to karate. On reflection, that is more or less what they did in their opening match against Argentina... The treatment handed out to Maradona was a travesty of football” (3/6/86). And in 1986, games were still seen to be “being corrupted by tactical thuggery, if anything on a worse scale that in 1982” (9/6/86). The losers of the 1990 final, Argentina, were seen to have “shamed” the final and to have “[o]nce again demeaned football”. It was suggested that the final would “be remembered not for the way West Germany won it, mechanically and without style, but for the manner in which Argentina lost it, disgracefully” (9/7/90). By 1990, reporters displayed more willingness to criticise English players. When Terry Butcher was selected by England manager Bobby Robson after headbutting a Tunisian player in a pre-tournament game, it was suggested that Robson had “defended the indefensible” by taking no disciplinary action against the player. It was reported that Robson had asked ““[d]id the BBC show him being held before the free kick was taken?”... as if that might excuse Butcher‟s subsequent violent response” (5/6/90).

FIFA Interventions

These accounts reveal two underlying patterns. The first is that, in The Times at least, there was a perception of „foreign deviance‟ and „English/British virtue‟ – a characteristic of „established-outsider‟ relationships explored by Elias and Scotson (1965). Secondly, the actual injuries to players, some examples of which are highlighted above, suggests that World Cup games were often characterised by relatively violent (foul) play, exhibited by players of many different nationalities over a prolonged period of time. The above

263 examples point to the emergence of the soccer subculture, previously discussed in relation to the English game, on an international scale. These limited examples indicate that the „spirit‟ of The Laws – Rimet‟s “most remarkable qualit[ies] of football” - had little meaning for many players involved in elite level international football. Just as we have seen in relation to the FA amateur ideology and the English game, there was some disparity between the ideal and the reality of the way the game was played. Below, the way in which FIFA attempted to establish a greater level of control over players and referees to ensure the game was played more in line with their amateur ideals are explored.

Pre-Tournament Training for Referees As noted, prior to both the 1950 and 1954 tournament, the only interventions taken by FIFA to „shape‟ refereeing practices amounted to very little: day long conferences which did not even involve all of the referees due to officiate. By 1966, such „training‟ had become a little more substantial and at least involved all of the officials. For three days before the tournament the 33 officials, from 27 different countries were briefed by England‟s Ken Aston, the FIFA referees‟ liaison officer7. In what referee described as “a few inadequate lectures”, Aston attempted “to achieve a common purpose and interpretation by all the officials of the various situations with which they had to deal” (Howell, 1968, 87). Because of the language barriers, Aston had to resort to sign language and, as Taylor put it:

There was not enough consideration given to the different styles of football played in South America and Europe: not enough understanding of the sort of things that referees allow on one continent but not on the other (Taylor, 1976, 69).

Not surprisingly, the theme of divergent interpretations of The Laws remained the focus of FIFA concern throughout much of this period. FIFA‟s „solution‟ to the problem was, for the most part, typically to look to one member of the football figuration: the referee. In other words, many of the FIFA policies were based on an inadequate conception of the problem, which

264 failed to take into account the complex figurational network (Elias, 1978) of which referees were (and are) a part. Thus this pattern of „training‟ was repeated for the 1970 tournament, where referees again gathered together for a week prior to the competition “to resolve difference of approach and attitude towards interpretation of The Laws which might exist between referees from different parts of the world, and to attempt to arrive at an agreed understanding of the Laws of the Game and their interpretation” (Ford and Courte, TSG report, 1972, 89).

By 1970, the focus solely on referees remained largely unchanged, but their training had by now become a little more sophisticated: there was some physical fitness training and films of tackles and obstruction were shown and then discussed by officials. Ford and Courte (1972, 90) suggest that the “democratic” process of discussion was more likely to result in more enduring changes than “attitudes apparently dictated from above”, but once again the relatively short conference can have done little to address what were by then firmly established refereeing practices. For the first time a „Technical Study Group‟ (TSG) reported on the way the tournament was organised and overseen. Thus FIFA members reflected on the way games were being played and refereed and, as a consequence, began to develop a (relatively) more adequate conception of the problem of divergent refereeing and playing practices. So, whilst the then FIFA president, Rous, still remained committed to the notion that problems of interpretation might be addressed by „educating‟ referees, he at least recognised that more protracted meetings “two or three months before the actual conference began” might be more effective (Ford and Courte, 1972, 90). It was also recommended that referees not actually officiating at tournaments should participate in training in order to “spread agreements on uniform interpretation of the laws” (Ford and Courte, 1972, 147).

FIFA members were, then, beginning to identify refereeing as a „problem‟ and to formulate policies on what should be done to address „refereeing

265 problems‟. At this stage, such policies remained relatively unsophisticated and framed by an inadequate understanding of the causes of refereeing problems. For, as discussed below, by 1966 FIFA members were concerned at instances of violent play in World Cup games. However, as the previously cited evidence on violent conduct in successive tournaments indicates, the policies they introduced at this stage were largely unsuccessful. There is some indication, however, that by 1970 FIFA policy was beginning to be framed by relatively more adequate understandings that the „problem‟ could not be solved by reference to referees alone. For, a film on the interpretation of The Laws was distributed to the teams playing in the competition. Coupled with the fact that “some teams were unable to use them because it was impossible to get hold of a suitable projector”(Ford and Courte, 1972, 146), such a short term measure can have done little to address the underlying „problem‟ of established divergent playing styles and attitudes to violence. Again, the reflections on the tournament embodied in the TSG report led to proposals that this should be addressed for subsequent tournaments and that films on interpretation should be sent out “some time before the tournament” (Ford and Courte, 1972, 148).

By 1974, it was being suggested that “[t]hanks to the stepped up instruction of recent years, the differences in interpretation of the Laws of the Game are not quite as extreme as they were at one point” (Heimann and Courte, TSG report, 1976, 74, emphasis added). Revealingly, the authors stressed that despite this „improvement‟ and “FIFA‟s intensive and expensive programme of preparation for referees” there were “still big differences in interpretation and application of the Laws of the Game” (1976, 107). Typically, the onus to change this was largely on referees:

Player-to-player contact still presents a problem of interpretation. Referees at this level of the game must be knowledgeable and alert to distinguish between the so-called „professional‟ foul, where the unfair advantage is sought out of a body contact incident, and that which is genuine. Players are

266 using their arms and bodies illegally... to check an opponent before the ball is received, as well as when playing it. Many of these unfair acts if not seen or understood by the referee arouse bitterness between players and stimulate reaction. Then again, a hard but fair tackle at the ball is sometimes penalised because the opponent falls and feigns serious injury. ... A good referee should show not only that he is not influenced by such unfair pretence, but that he will penalise it (Heimann and Courte, 1976, 108).

Whilst interpretations may have become more uniform by this point, the evidence on violent play in the World Cup through the 1960s to 1990s, indicates that such uniformity was perhaps most apparent in the widespread acceptance of relatively high levels of violent foul play. As such, referees may have become more uniform in their interpretation, but they were apparently refereeing more in line with the players‟ view of how the game should be played rather than how FIFA members - or members of the English media – thought it should be played. A brief exploration of the reasons why this pattern emerged is explored below.

The Football Subculture and Referees The tolerance of „violent play‟ by referees at a time when FIFA was trying to eradicate it from the game can be explained by, once more, considering referees and players in figurational terms. For, whilst many FIFA interventions were focused on attempting to ensure referees interpreted The Laws in line with the governing body‟s interpretation, such a policy neglected to consider the ways in which referees might share players‟ views on the way games should be played. Below, I briefly outline some features of players‟ ideologies and, following this, provide evidence on the way referees can be seen to have shared those ideological commitments.

Players‟ autobiographies from the period give a sense of the players‟ ideologies about the way the game was „meant‟ to be played by professionals. Players, to a greater or lesser degree, embodied traditional masculine ideals about violence, often leading to dangerous and injurious tackles. One example

267 is given here from the biography of Ron „Chopper‟ Harris, who might be said to have been at the extreme end of the continuum in terms of players‟ attitudes towards violence. That such an example is not, however, unique or unusual is evidenced by Thompson‟s (1996) collection of quotes from players‟ (auto)biographies. His collection contains extracts from almost one hundred (auto)biographies from the 1960s-1990s which reveal similar sentiments to that encapsulated by the title, Do that Again Son and I’ll Break Your Legs: Football’s Hard Men8. In his biography, Soccer the Hard Way, Harris outlines his approach to the game:

I tackle hard. I go in to tackle hard and I admit I have tried to soften a suspect opponent (suspect for courage that is) by letting him know early on in the game that I am a hard man. But I don‟t think I have ever inflicted a serious injury on a fellow professional. I‟ve handed out a good few bruises and I‟ve collected a good few. But I have never hit an opponent and have never intentionally put one off the field (Harris, 1970, 19).

Such claims to have not „intentionally‟ hurt opponents are informed by ideological beliefs prevalent in the football subculture, wherein it is not „acceptable‟ to be seen to deliberately harm a „fellow professional‟. The difference between such ideological public pronouncements and the reality of how such issues are „played out‟ is apparent in Harris‟s (1970, 25) revelation that: “Managers ... say things like: „Give so-and-so a couple of hard tackles early on and he‟s finished for the game‟”. Such a revelation also points to the interrelationships between managers and players (and other club personnel) and the ways in which aspects of the football subculture are endorsed, perpetuated and maintained by various members of the football figuration.

The commitment to particular traditional „masculine‟ ideological values are also revealed in Harris‟s account of his „tolerance‟ of pain9:

I‟ve had fluid on the ankles . . . knocks of all descriptions. I‟ve literally been black and blue after some matches. So what? Everyone in soccer suffers aches and pains, but it is our job to

268 play football not to rest on treatment tables, so I carry on (1970, 24).

The FA have, at various points in time, attempted to reduce the degree of violence in games. For example in 1971, the Football League Referees‟ Officer, George Readle, and members of the FA launched a „clampdown‟ – without consulting players or club personnel (Burtenshaw, 1973, 78; see also Taylor, 1976, 109). Referees were instructed before the season to caution players for the tackle from behind, deliberate handling and persistently arguing with the referee. In the first 15 matches of the season, 32 players were cautioned, by the eleventh week of the “revolution” 700 players had been cautioned and by December, 1000 players had been cautioned (Burtenshaw, 1973, 77-8). As Burtenshaw (1973, 83) suggests, “[t]he reactions from within and outside the game were hysterical” – perhaps inevitably, given that there had been no warning about the dramatic shift in refereeing style. Derek Doogan, the chair of the PFA complained:

If this continues we will have 84 minutes of stoppages and five minutes of football. It seems that there is no longer any room in the game for physical contact (quoted in Burtenshaw, 1973, 77).

That such reactive policies were gradually relaxed can, in part, be explained by the resistance of other members of the football figuration: the increasingly powerful players and club personnel. Referees had initially been “assured” by the FA and the Football League that they would be “backed to the hilt if they cautioned or sent off players who stepped out of line” (Taylor, 1976, 101). But the effect of FA/ Football League policy was „watered down‟ in the face of pressure from the PFA and “it was announced that the FA would take a compassionate view of bookings during the first few weeks of the season, if they were for offences that players could reasonably have got away with previous” (Taylor, 1976, 112).

However, a significant factor which explains the gradual „relaxation‟ of such policies relates to referees‟ immersion in the football subculture and the extent

269 to which they were still, at this time, able to act relatively autonomously. As Burtenshaw observed:

There may have been a memorandum from the Football League on what to do and not to do, but referees still used their common sense. Most referees prefer to talk quietly to a player and warn him. Next time he knows he could be in the book (1973, 86; See also Hill & Tomas (1975, 71)).

The „application‟ of a „common sense‟ approach is elucidated by former Football League referee, Gordon Hill. He describes, for example, how he „dealt with‟ a fist fight during a game:

I was about 10 yards away so I ran five yards and threw myself the other five through the air. I landed on top of them grabbed them round their necks to bend them forward and marched them to the corner flag like two schoolboys. I really bollocked them. „You‟ve brought this game into disrepute‟, I said. „Damn me, cut it out‟. I then said: „I should send you off I suppose, but bloody well get on with it and don‟t let me down‟. Grand - no problems (Hill & Tomas, 1975, 70).

Hill was “almost applauded into the tea lounge by the press” (Hill & Tomas, 1975, 70). Again, such endorsement by other members of the football figuration of this common sense approach in part explains why referees such as Hill continued to „follow their heads‟, rather than FA guidance and instructions. Hill was congratulated on his refereeing – “I [don‟t] think I‟ve ever seen refereeing as good as that in my life”, but was subsequently on the end of a “bollocking” from the Football League for not having sent the players off (Hill & Tomas, 1975, 70-71). Hill‟s account of the incident leaves little doubt as to which „approach‟ – common sense or the FA/Football League view - he afforded most respect.

The use of „common sense‟ was, and is, often an euphemism for referees not applying The Laws in line with FA and FIFA directives and requirements. For the subjective nature of „common sense‟ interpretations of The Laws affords referees a greater range of interpretations than if they „comply‟ with FA and

270 FIFA directives. At this stage, referees were still able to „use their common sense‟, a „practice‟ which as we shall see later in this chapter, has gradually been eroded. Referees‟ use of „common sense‟ in essence meant that they continued, to a greater or lesser extent, to apply The Laws in line with the way they thought the game should be played. Given that referees developed their ideological commitments in the same cultural context as the players themselves, referees often shared the same views on how the game should be played as the players themselves. In this sense, as members of the football figuration, referees were, and are, „immersed‟ in the football subculture. For example, the notion that football is „a man‟s game‟ is often referred to in referees‟ (auto)biographies, along with „appreciation‟ of well known „hard men‟10:

I am concerned about the players being soft (Ellis, 1954, 58).

To those who retort that football is a man‟s game I would say: „Hear! Hear!‟ (Ellis, 1962, 163).

The test of a real hard man is whether he can take it as well as give it out (Burtenshaw, 1973, 34).

As a boy I loved watching Tommy Banks ... When Tommy went into the tackle, the [opposition] winger would end up on the running track, but there was a sort of basic integral honesty in the challenge (Hill & Tomas, 1975, 84).

During the 1970s, Gordon Hill (cited above) was known as “the players‟ referee” (Partridge & Gibson, 1980, 79). That he was identified in this way is a strong indication that he „shared‟ the players‟ ideologies on how the game should be played. As we have seen, Hill approved of the „manly‟ approach to the game, where men „got on with it‟, and he was also a firm believer in the „robust‟ (dangerous) tackle. In the following extract, he describes a tackle by Norman Hunter which “nearly kicked Gerry Francis straight over the top of the stand”:

271 OK, it was a diabolical foul, but to accuse this man of malice, of being deliberately brutal, is very unfair. I could have refereed players like Norman Hunter for ever. They are so open in their belligerence (Hill & Tomas, 1975, 86).

That tackles such as these were often „tolerated‟ by referees can, then, be understood by considering the interrelationships between referees and players. Referees‟ „immersion‟ in the football subculture, revealed in the shared ideological commitments cited above, often led them to give „hard men‟ the „benefit of the doubt‟. Because, at this stage, referees still had to adjudge whether players intentionally fouled their opponents, the scope for interpretation was relatively wide. Thus referees were able to treat such tackles more leniently than they might have done:

Gerry Gow ... was a mighty hard man. But that was his role - to put himself about and put the fear of God into opponents. ... Billy Bremner... Norman Hunter ... Terry Yorath ... Tommy Smith, Ron Harris, Peter Storey.... These men were all known to be hard. But I do not think they were cynical. Clumsy, maybe, but not cynical. They invariably had the ball in mind (Hackett, 1986, 94). And:

The inference is that players could get away with things when I was in charge of their match and, yes to a certain extent I have to admit that was the case... I have to agree that when a player committed a sending off offence, I was more likely to give him the benefit of the doubt than other referees (Hill & Tomas, 1975, 68)11. It is not clear how widely views such as those cited here were shared by other referees. Certainly, the prospects for „inconsistency‟ were high if some referees accorded with FA instructions and guidance, whilst others refereed more in line with the prevailing views of players and managers. The FA‟s subsequent attempts to ensure referees officiated in line with their view on how the game should be played also met with limited success. For example, the FA attempted to eradicate the „professional foul‟ again in the 1982-83 season by issuing further instructions to referees. However, The FA‟s efforts

272 on this occasion were „thwarted‟ by FIFA. In a further demonstration of the international governing body‟s growing power in relation to national associations, the FA had to withdraw their instruction that deliberate handling of the ball should be penalised with a red card. For, “FIFA instructed the home countries [on the IFAB] that the stricter interpretation must be withdrawn with immediate effect” (Thomas, 1984, 114), because the procedure was “contrary” to the way The Laws were applied elsewhere. Later in this chapter, the ways in which FIFA has increasingly constrained national associations and consequently referees, are discussed in more depth. For now, however, we return to FIFA‟s more „direct‟ efforts to influence refereeing practices through their interventions during World Cup tournaments.

FIFA Training The scope of FIFA guidance and training for referees gradually increased from the 1970s onwards. More attention was paid to officials‟ fitness and general health12 with, for example, tests for hearing, eyesight and heart rate (Marotzke and Hüssy, TSG Report, 1982, 226), although by 1990, the limitations of the pre-tournament training was apparent to one observer, who noted a “woman interpreter, a non-sportswoman was able to take part in the referees‟ training routine during the early stages without even being out of breath” (The Times, 10/7/90). FIFA apparently shared such concerns over referees‟ fitness levels, but, like many aspects of refereeing practice, the global spread of the game meant the international governing body could exert relatively little control over this issue. In figurational terms, FIFA were trying to establish control over complex social processes and relational networks. Referees were nominated for the tournament by their national associations and whilst Courte suggested the pre-tournament fitness training was “having its effect” by 1980, he also revealed “[n]early all the referees were in good shape on arrival” (emphasis added). He recommended:

Associations whose referees are chosen for this Competition would do well to insist that they train to achieve a high

273 standard of fitness before they report for the conference” (Courte, TSG Report, 1980, 86).

Clive Thomas, who officiated at the 1978 and 1982 tournaments, indicates that the general fitness of officials was not as high as FIFA implied. After the 1982 finals, he noted:

Once more I was shaken by the number of referees who failed the tests. Believe me, no matter what the records show, they failed. But no one was sent home (1984, 59).

The practical implications of „sending referees home‟ go some way to explaining why FIFA did not adopt such a policy. FIFA would have been left with a reduced pool of referees to select from which would have made appointing neutral officials more difficult and, if they considered calling up other officials, there is no reason to suppose that they would have been any more fit than those originally selected.

Concerns over fitness were probably part of the motivation behind the FIFA policy to reduce the average age of referees overseeing World Cup games, for example from an average of 43 in 1990 to 40 in 1994 (Nepfer, 1990, 262) – although in 1980 the average age had actually been lower than this, at 39 (Marotzke and H ssy, 1982, 225). By 1990, it was suggested that the selection of World Cup officials should no longer “be planned as the termination of a refereeing career” (Nepfer, 1990, 262), a policy which has also been adopted in England in the FA Cup Final since the 1990s. As well as addressing the potential fitness of officials, this policy may also have been introduced to ensure referees remained committed to interpreting The Laws in line with FIFA guidelines. For, referees in the early to mid stages of the refereeing careers are more likely to feel constrained to act within FIFA guidelines, if failure to do so will have a negative impact on their future prospects for overseeing international games. In contrast, referees at the end of their careers during the tournaments up until the 1990s may have felt less constrained to officiate strictly in line with FIFA directives. For, with retirement looming, the

274 consequences of not doing so would be less significant. As such, referees were still able to act with a relatively high degree of autonomy. So, whilst as discussed below, FIFA gradually introduced more explicit and differentiated instructions about how The Laws should be interpreted, referees at the end of their careers did not necessarily feel constrained to referee in line with them. For example, during the 1974 tournament the TSG report noted:

Coaches welcomed the statements in the guide that players who catch the ball to prevent the development of an attack would be cautioned. In the earlier matches, ... referees immediately produced the yellow card for this offence and there was genuine feeling that, in consequence, players would refrain from using this grossly unfair tactic. In later matches, under the control of more experienced referees, it was regretted that players committing such offences were not cautioned (Heimann and Courte, 1976, 107)13.

Such „leniency‟ may partly explain why games played throughout the 1950s to 1990s were characterised by relatively high levels of violence. As Clive Thomas (1984, 60) reflected on the 1978 tournament ”the referees lacked the commitment necessary to take disciplinary action against brutal tackling”. FIFA „achieved‟ a greater level of control over referees essentially by „disciplining‟ them – again, a development which parallels the FA‟s „reactive‟ policies in the early 1900s discussed in Chapter Six. Thus, the Italian referee Agnolin “announced his retirement from football after a 28 year career” having “been severely criticised by ... [FIFA general secretary] Blatter, for not curbing rough play during a first round match between Yugoslavia and Colombia” (The Times, 10/7/90).

FIFA‟s policy was also, however, a little more „pre-emptive‟, for referees were at least informed more clearly about how they were expected to referee and about the consequences of not interpreting The Laws in line with FIFA directives. FIFA began to penalise referees not overseeing games in line with FIFA policy; from 1990, for example, referees were informed they would not be given further appointments in World Cup competitions if they failed to

275 apply The Laws „correctly‟. Two referees were sent home in 1994 after “unsatisfactory performances”, following which Blatter announced “[t]hey will not officiate again in the tournament” (The Times, 5/7/94). Through such policies, FIFA members have gradually come to exert more control over referees and to constrain them to oversee games more in line with the FIFA view on how games „should‟ be played.

Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, training was generally still limited to a week before the tournament14, until the 1990s when referees were assembled up to three weeks prior to the first game (The Guardian Online, 23/06/1998). The interpretation of The Laws remained the central focus of pre-tournament preparations throughout15. By 1994, despite a relatively concerted effort over the past half – century, the TSG report still referred to the problem:

a unanimous interpretation of the rules could not be achieved for 36 referees from 34 countries... in the time available for instruction. This task remains one of the biggest problems... and must in future be tackled using new methods (Nepfer, TSG Report, 1990, 262).

The implication in this account, that if only „more time‟ could be devoted to the issue then uniformity might be “achieved”, fails to recognise the „nature‟ of the problem. The quest for perfect decision-making and uniform interpretation is an ideal. And, as discussed previously, the subjective nature of interpretation means that the „ideal‟ can never be fully realised. Whilst, as discussed, FIFA have exerted more constraints on referees to ensure they officiate in line with FIFA „directives‟ on The Laws, this focus on „interpretation‟ along with the fitness and training for referees also fails to take into account a range of other causal factors which contribute to refereeing problems, not least among them the soccer subculture. As such, and as will be discussed in more depth in the final chapter of this thesis, the pursuit of policies to „improve‟ refereeing standards may alleviate some refereeing problems. However, without paying due attention to the wider network of

276 which referees are a part and to the more fundamental and enduring causes of refereeing problems , FIFA members are unlikely to achieve their objectives.

Processes of Selection and Appointment of Match Officials: Democracy and Competency As noted earlier in this chapter, the appointment of referees to the early tournaments had been governed by practical and financial constraints. Further, the selection of officials was also „dictated‟ by those FIFA member countries with a relatively high status and influence on the FIFA executive committee. This policy continued in the 1960s. Whilst FIFA had stipulated that neutral officials should oversee international games since 1950, the interpretation of this ruling was relatively unsophisticated, essentially only ruling out officials from those countries actually playing. Thus of the “33 officials from 27 different countries” who oversaw the 1966 tournament in England, 10 were actually British referees. With the two West German officials, European referees constituted a significant proportion of those officiating. Despite FIFA receiving 148 nominations from 82 member associations, “the committee followed the established principle of selecting seven referees from the organising country, one from each other competing finalist, and a further nine from countries whose teams had not qualified for the last sixteen” (Mayes, FA Report, 1966, 291). As we have seen, however, there were significant differences between the way The Laws were interpreted on different continents. As such, the prospects for European „bias‟, in terms of The Laws being interpreted in line with European rather than South American practices were high. As a consequence, the previously noted games between Argentina and England and Uruguay and West Germany in the tournament, led the South American representatives to question how neutral the European officials overseeing these games had been (see The Times, 26/7/66).

The increasing membership of FIFA, coupled with the problems identified here, eventually led FIFA to adopt more „democratic‟ systems of selection of

277 World Cup officials. By the 1970 tournament in Mexico, there were over 750 international referees registered with FIFA (Ford and Courte, 1972, 85), 30 of whom were to be selected for Mexico. Again, FIFA began to exert more control and influence over the processes of selection, underlying the organisation‟s increasing power in relation to national governing bodies. So, rather than „accepting‟ the referees nominated by national associations, members of the FIFA Referees Committee watched “a large group of referees ... in the years leading up to Mexico”, before making their selection16. Further evidence of FIFA‟s growing authority is evident in the organisation‟s „defence‟ of its selection procedures for the 1974 competition. Some national associations had protested that their officials, who had been observed by the Referees‟ Committee, were not selected, whilst others objected to the fact that the committee had not selected their “highest ranked” officials. The FIFA response underlines the shift in power:

It must be a matter of course, that the FIFA Committee which is solely responsible for the deployment and performance of the referees during the final tournament, must take into account its own experience and knowledge regarding the performances of referees when drawing up its list (Heimann and Courte, 1976, 73, emphasis added).

The desire to adopt more democratic methods in the appointment of referees was outlined by Ford and Courte in their TSG report in 1972:

It was the desire of FIFA to introduce referees from some of the less well known footballing areas of the world, to give them experience at the highest level. ... an attempt was made to ensure a greater impartiality amongst the referees by having a large number from neutral countries. ... This was not to suggest that there had been partiality in the past, but the creation of impartiality is like justice, it needs not only to be done, but to be seen to be done” (Ford and Courte , 1972, 85).

One unintended consequence of this policy – and indeed the trend towards younger referees overseeing games – is that less experienced officials take charge of high profile, often highly competitive and „important‟ games. The

278 huge crowds attending games, along with massive media coverage of the tournament and the increasing significance of international football has often meant that relatively inexperienced officials have been, to some extent, „thrown in at the deep end‟. As a consequence of this policy, appointed officials were/are not necessarily the most competent referees. This is a „circular‟ problem, in that referees cannot „get‟ that experience without officiating in intense, high profile games. Thus the „benefits‟ of such a policy were outlined in the TSG report which concluded the ”[s]election of referees from many countries was thought to be useful in raising standards, providing these referees had distinctive ability and sufficient experience in refereeing top competition matches outside their own country and possibly in another continent” (Ford and Courte, 1972, 147). However, the „negative‟ consequences of FIFA‟s democratic policies have been highlighted in the press. In 1982 it was noted:

On referees, FIFA again have their hands tied by politics with the 41 officials being put up by 41 countries with no thought for having the best. Surely it would be possible to have a more consistent attitude by referees to bad tackles and body checking. Gentile and Stielike showed their mastery of these villainies on Sunday night with hardly a word of complaint from the inexperienced Brazilian referee, Mr Coelho, who had officiated at fewer than 20 internationals (The Times, 12/7/82).

And in 1986, the FIFA president Havelange was accused of being in a “world of make-believe” for his suggestion that “the referees were doing their job”, and “were abiding by the laws”. His assertion that “it was democratic to select 36 referees from all six FIFA confederations rather than merely the best referees “like it or not”” was implicitly criticised, thus: “[h]e seems unmoved by the fact that the referees are almost overwhelmed by foul play in some matches” (16/6/86). One such game was that between Spain and Algeria, characterised by “gross surplus of Algerian aggression”. After the Algerian goalkeeper was “carried away with injuries to the shoulder, head and spine,

279 the Algerian discipline fell apart, watched apathetically by an inadequate referee from Japan” (The Times, 13/6/86)17.

The drive towards democracy has, then, to some extent constrained the FIFA Referees‟ Committee. For, rather than being able to select referees on criteria relating to their fitness and ability, committee members are also required to make „politically informed‟ selections in order that the organisation is “seen to be” treating all its member associations „fairly‟ and not prioritising „high status‟ associations – such as the older associations and those in Europe. FIFA began to address the problem of combining the development of refereeing in emerging football nations with the need to have competent officials overseeing the „showcase‟ tournament after the 1990 competition. The processes of FIFA observation were initiated soon after the 1990 competition, in preparation for 1994, and “an intercontinental exchange programme [was] set up to enable officials to gather experience of working in different countries” (Schneider, 1994, 173).

How equitable and democratic the FIFA policy of selecting referees from different continents was in reality, however, was questioned in The Times. There it was noted that “[b]ehind the locked corridors of power, insidious jockeying has been going on over the appointment of these officials ... Self interest has been paramount” (30/5/70). For Thomas, the politically informed selections in 1978 resulted in the appointment of “referees who were simply not experienced enough to officiate in the Welsh League‟s Premier Division... No, referees were chosen in some matches for purely political reasons” (Thomas, 1984, 60-61). Echoing the questions raised in The Times, he also noted that political concerns governed not only the general selection of referees pre-tournament, but also their appointment during the competition, raising some questions about claims of „democracy‟ (see Thomas, 1984, 61-65). Whilst, by 1974, the Referees Committee made appointments for each round only after “examining referee inspectors‟ reports” on referees‟ performances (Heimann and Courte, 1976, 74), it seems that, once more, „competency‟ was

280 not the only guiding factor. Thus Dr Franchi, who was the FIFA Referees‟ Committee official chairman in 1978, had:

made a casting vote that the final would be refereed by his fellow countryman, Gonella, who sounds like a danceband leader and who to my mind referees like one... Gonella incidentally, did not referee another game either in Europe or in his own country after his final debacle (Thomas, 1984, 64-65).

Thomas (1984, 60) also identified another problem with the selection of officials: the use of referees as linesmen. This policy had remained unchanged since the inception of the tournament. At the 1954 tournament, FIFA had instructed referees and linesmen on how they should operate as a „team‟. FIFA issued instructions to linesmen not to call attention to any incidents unseen by the referee:

We [British officials] pride ourselves on working as a team but it seemed that certain instructions would sabotage our effort. The referee, naturally enough, was in charge but the help to be given by the linesman was to be limited to signalling for corners, goal-kicks, throw-ins and offside (Griffiths, 1958, 72).

Interestingly, as discussed below, this instruction contradicted the methods used in Britain. As such, it represents something of a shift in the power relationships between the international body and the British associations. The introduction of this restriction on linesmen‟s duties at this stage might relate to the fact that the referees „doubled up‟ as linesmen for the tournament. In other words, there were no „specialist‟ linesmen. As such, FIFA may have been attempting to limit the possibilities for conflicting interpretations between officials from different countries overseeing games. Alternatively, FIFA members may have anticipated problems in terms of the over- involvement of linesmen more use to being in charge of games. However, at this early stage, the British referees were apparently in a position to „resist‟ the FIFA directive:

281 There would be some offences not seen by the referee yet seen by the linesman that would go unpunished if the instructions were strictly adhered to, but when a British referee was in charge things were as with the Football League - team work (Griffiths, 1958, 72).

By 1978, when linesmen were instructed to take a more proactive role during matches, the policy of appointing referees as linesmen was identified as a „problem‟ by Clive Thomas. He argued:

Throughout the matches there was little evidence of co- operation between linesmen and referee, possibly because many of them had not run the line in ten or fifteen years and were therefore not correctly positioned to give offside decisions. Nor were they prepared to assist referees in controlling rough play, because, in my opinion, they were aware that a low mark for a referee would be beneficial to the linesman who hoped to have future matches as the man in the middle (1984, 60).

It was not until 1994 that FIFA addressed this problem, when they appointed 22 „specialist‟ linesmen in addition to the 24 referees. The interesting issue of „competition‟ between referees which Thomas eludes to here is addressed in more depth in the following chapter.

Having outlined the way FIFA addressed refereeing problems in relation to match officials themselves, the following section looks at the measures FIFA introduced to exert greater control over other significant members of the football figuration: the players and team managers.

Disciplinary Procedures and Interventions As the previously cited reports from The Times indicate, by the 1960s commentators on the game had begun to note and criticise the prevalence of violent play and indiscipline. It was some time, however, before FIFA members introduced policies which addressed not only the training of referees, but also sought to change the underlying playing culture. Thus in 1966, the “unseemly incidents in the quarter-finals” were understood simply as “the one major blot on the final series” (Mayes, 1966, 99). The FIFA

282 Disciplinary Committee met four times during the championships, during which Nobby Stiles, who had been cautioned for “rough play” during the game with France, was warned that if he was reported again, “serious action would be taken” (Mayes, 1966, 293). Similar „threats‟ were issued to the “whole Argentine team” who were “warned to play in a more sporting manner in future games, otherwise further action would be taken against the guilty players” (Mayes, 1966, 293). The behaviour of the Argentinean side was singled out for specific criticism, indicating that FIFA did not, at this stage, perceive there to be a more general, fundamental problem:

The Committee decided that the Argentine team and officials, in spite of requests by the president of FIFA before the tournament started, for displays of football and conduct which would enhance the reputation of the competition... had, by their misbehaviour, brought the game into grave disrepute. They had committed flagrant breaches of the Laws of the Game, and shown disregard for discipline and good order... The attack on the referee after the game by players, and especially... Ferreiro, and by team officials, was particularly regrettable. ... it should be proposed to the World Cup Organising Committee for the next world championship that entry by Argentine [sic] for the next World Cup Championship in 1970 be refused, unless certain assurances are given as to the conduct of their team players and officials (Mayes, 1966, 293-294).

The Argentine FA were fined the maximum permitted, whilst Rattin was banned for four international games, Ferreiro for three; and Onega received a three match ban “for having spat in the face of the official Commissaire” (Mayes, 1966, 294). Not surprisingly, the South American Football Confederation questioned how “a warranty can be asked of a country before they can enter the next World Cup, because we think that the team and the officials in 1970 cannot be judged in 1966 in London”(The Times, 27/6/66). By 1970, FIFA had become a little more pre-emptive. The organisation issued information to the heads of national associations and team managers warning them about the conduct of their players:

283 It was stressed that any argument with the referee was likely to lead to severe penalties: certainly a caution, possibly a sending off ... any demonstration against the referee‟s decision or „dissent of lamentation‟ might incur disciplinary action. An equally serious warning was given about delaying the taking of free kicks; interfering with the taking of a free kick by the opposing side, the kicking away of the ball or other tactics would be treated with severity (Ford and Courte, 1972, 92).

The tentative nature of these warnings suggests both that FIFA members were not sure their referees would apply such sanctions and that the formulation of disciplinary procedures was, as this stage, relatively embryonic. As noted, FIFA members had long been aware that referees interpreted The Laws in different ways: by 1970 it was recognised that this was also evident in the way players and coaches interpreted The Laws:

Coaches, players and referees in Central and South America seem to accept that a player can foul outside the penalty area without impunity, i.e., although they may be penalised for the offence, they will not be cautioned or sent off... There are differences also in the attitude towards a high kick, a high tackle, tackle from behind, sliding tackle, standing to obstruct with wide stretched arms, and the advantage rule (Ford and Courte, 1972, 148).

This extract highlights a range of offences which players indulged in, indicating once again the conflicting ideologies between many of those playing the game and those administering The Laws. In order to address this, the TSG report again recommended that FIFA should prepare “films or loops... on these matters” (Courte, 1972, 148). In 1974, FIFA provided teams with descriptions of what was or was not permissible; thus a tackle “with foot lifted from ground” and “with both feet together” was permissible unless “seen to be dangerous to the opponent” (Heimann and Courte, 1976, 110) and the tackle from behind “was allowed if the ball was played without touching the opponent‟s legs” (Heimann and Courte, 1976, 110). Such instructions were sufficiently vague to allow enormous scope for interpretation which, as we have seen, meant that there were wide discrepancies in how such instructions

284 were applied. More precise instructions were issued in relation to players interactions with referees: “Protests against the referee‟s decision will result in a caution. Any player who molests the referee will be sent off without caution” (Heimann and Courte, 1976, 111). Once again, with referees still able to act relatively autonomously, the scope for officials to avoid issuing cautions remained large. By 1980, the TSG report identified an increased range of offences which were not being penalised:

There were several instances when players committing offences such as the deliberate handling of the ball and the catching hold or tripping of an opponent to stop good penetrative attacks outside the penalty area were not cautioned... It is argued that referees hesitate to use the yellow card because a later infringement by the same player will mean a sending off and suspension from the next game which, in some situations would seem to be too drastic a punishment. Being lenient is no answer and produces its own problems. The law is clear and if referees are firm in their application of it, players will respond (Courte, 1980, 85).

Clearly, but not surprisingly, the “loops and films” had not had a significant effect on the deeply rooted „soccer subculture‟. Though recognising the way in which coaches might endorse professional fouls and, despite having begun to identify more general, endemic problems, FIFA‟s answer was still most often to inform referees what they should be doing18:

If players and coaches recognise that these so-called „professional fouls‟ are accepted by referees as minor infringements, then they will perpetrate them more often ... National coaches are worried about referees allowing far too much brutal play and unsporting behaviour to go unpunished (Courte, 1980, 85).

Whilst some “national coaches” might have been “worried” about “brutal play” and “unsporting behaviour”, it appears that a significant majority were not „concerned‟ enough to stop their own players indulging in such tactics. Whilst the report concluded it was “within the power of referees, supported by the Associations and FIFA to rid the game of wanton vicious play and cheating

285 practices” (Courte, 1980, 86, emphasis added), at this stage most of the responsibility was shouldered by referees. The concern over violent play evident by the 1980s is indicative of FIFA‟s growing concern to „protect‟ skilful players, to encourage what is often perceived to be more „attractive‟ attacking play and to avoid injury to players. These values continue to guide FIFA interventions and have informed many subsequent rule changes. In 1982, FIFA launched its „Campaign for Fair Play‟, sending an „oath‟ for the presidents of national associations to sign. By now, FIFA members were clearly aware that there was a significant disparity between their ideals about how the game should be played and how it was being played in reality, for “[v]arious incidents on football pitches throughout the world have prevailed upon FIFA to address an appeal for fairness to players on all those teams participating in the World Cup”. The oath read:

Violence distorts and disgraces sport. We are going to play the World Cup watched by hundreds of millions of spectators. We are aware of our responsibilities and undertake to play with respect for the Laws, the referees and our opponents. We shall do our utmost to ensure that the World Cup will be a display of manly conduct and that the triumph will be football‟s (Marotzke and H ssy, TSG Report, 1982, 228).

The evidence on continued violent play through the 1980s and beyond underlines the inadequacy of such an „appeal‟. Whilst national associations might have signed up to the „oath‟ or, in the contemporary game, the FIFA Code of Conduct19, such an act is little more than a symbolic gesture. For, as the evidence presented throughout this thesis indicates, the ideals encapsulated in FIFA‟s „Fair Play‟ doctrines are not shared by many of the players and coaches involved in the football figuration. Elite level players undertake to “play to win”; football is a profession, with high stakes for winning and losing. Whilst violence might “distort and disgrace” sport for the FIFA administrators, for many players it was, and is, an integral element of the game, bound up with notions of masculinity and „what it is‟ to be a footballer. And, whilst not often explicitly spoken, the “respect for the laws”

286 might more accurately include the caveat „unless it benefits my team to circumvent them‟.

The inadequacy of such interventions to address such long term and fundamental problems gradually became apparent to FIFA administrators. As a result, the governing body resorted to more punitive measures to constrain referees who, in turn, were forced to apply The Laws more stringently than they had previously done. As a consequence it became less beneficial for teams to indulge in violent play and „blatant‟ „professional‟ fouls. In 1994, FIFA‟s Blatter engaged in what one reporter described as an “authoritarian crackdown against what has been virtual anarchy by players” (13/7/94). It was argued that such a move was overdue, for:

[Players], over more than two decades, have systematically cheated their game, they have wilfully threatened the limbs of fellow professionals, and Blatter... took it upon himself to cajole, persuade and galvanise opinion that the rule-makers had no choice but to bring players to heel... the improvement has to start somewhere and this has been, for the most part, a wonderful World Cup that has restored some liberty and freedom of expression to forward players (The Times, 13/7/94).

FIFA attempted to reduce “nasty fouls” in 1994 by informing referees and players that “[t]ackles from behind with little or no chance of getting the ball would be penalised by a direct free-kick and perhaps sending off” (Schneider, 1994, 174). In 1998, this form of tackling was outlawed altogether: it would be punished with a red card. With referees now constrained to act more in line with FIFA directives and players aware that to indulge in such tackles would result in a sending off, FIFA has eventually largely succeeded in eliminating this form of tackle from the game. However, as with all social actions, the complexity of the social processes FIFA were trying to control led to an unintended outcome: a high degree of inconsistency between referees. For, after twenty World Cup games, during which a total of four red cards had been shown, FIFA president Sepp Blatter (The Electronic Telegraph, 18/06/1998), announced that referees were not acting in accordance with

287 FIFA directives and that players tackling from behind were not being penalised. He suggested, “[t]hey are not applying the ban on tackles from behind. It is not up to them to decide how fouls should be interpreted”. Blatter went on to suggest that „the refereeing should improve”. In the next two matches, five red cards were shown. The response to this increase in bookings highlights the difficulties referees face in implementing such a change. For, whilst Blatter felt that the referees “had heard and understood” (The Electronic Telegraph, 19/06/1998) his message, FIFA‟s Michel Platini complained, “One moment they don‟t hand out enough cards and the next they hand out too many. The referees need to be a bit more careful” (The Electronic Telegraph, 19/06/1998). Whilst, in the short-term, these unforeseen consequences undermined other aspects of refereeing related FIFA policy, in the longer-term it has been relatively successful. For, the increasingly specific directives from FIFA, coupled with „disciplinary‟ consequences for referees, has meant that the „extreme‟ violence which characterised most of the tournaments up until the 1990s has been largely eradicated from the game. The penalties for engaging in such tactics now outweigh the benefits for players, as do the consequences for referees not applying The Laws.

However, the processual character of football means that alternative forms of foul play appear to have become more prevalent. That is to say, these are not „new‟ fouls for, once again, the previously cited evidence in Chapter Five indicates that they were practised from at least the turn of the century. And, in 1959, the FA published a series of pieces on „Gamesmanship – the Art of „Cheating Fairly‟, highlighting a range of similar foul practices which were still widespread in the professional game20. However fouls such as shirtpulling and „diving‟ appear to have been more readily utilised by players as methods for „gaining an advantage‟. This is likely to be both a consequence of the introduction of more stringent penalties to penalise more violent and „obvious‟ forms of foul play, and of the absence of stringent penalties to „prevent‟ shirtpulling and diving. For, the practice of stopping players by „fair

288 means or foul‟ once they have „gone past‟ defenders, etc., is deeply ingrained in the football subculture. Thus, knowing the tackle from behind is now almost certain to result in a dismissal, players may use alternative strategies in order to achieve this, such as shirtpulling. Just as the FA and FIFA react to emerging foul practices, so players react to changes in The Laws and thus the ongoing power struggles over the game is perpetuated.

Having outlined the various strategies FIFA has employed to tackle perceived refereeing problems through to the 1990s, the next chapter considers some of the reasons why they began to „address‟ these problems when they did, via an examination of the changing nature of media coverage of football.

1 As in 1950, there were four British referees (out of a total of 16) at the 1954 tournament in Berne: Arthur Ellis, Charles Faultless, Bill Ling and Mervyn Griffiths (Griffiths, 1958, 72). 2 The Times reported the match thus: “Never in my life have I seen such cruel tackling, the cutting down of opponents as if with a scythe, followed by threatening attitudes and sly jabs when officialdom was engaged elsewhere.... History should accord this affair the title of The Battle of Berne” (28/6/54). 3 That violent play became „an issue‟ from at least the 1960s, which FIFA attempted to address and eradicate from the game provides further evidence to support Elias notion of the civilising process. 4 For additional examples, see The Times: 3/7/50; 25/6/58; 4/6/62; 7/6/62; 13/7/66; 26/7/66; 2/8/66; 16/7/66; 16/6/70; 7/6/78; 12/6/82; 24/6/82; 1/7/82; 12/7/82; 5/6/86; 6/6/86; 19/6/86; 9/6/90; 16/6/90; 20/6/90; 23/6/86; 9/7/90; 10/7/90; 6/7/94 and 7/7/94. 5 Tudor makes similar observations in his analysis of the television coverage of the 1974 competition. He identifies the use of „Latin‟ (meaning South American) and European stereotypes, suggesting: “the Latin was associated with the bad („cynical‟, „dishonest‟, „dirty‟) while the European suggested the good („professional‟, „open‟, „disciplined‟). Inevitably, for English television, Argentina began the festival marked out as villains... For English television, at least, it seems that Argentina will never live down the combination of Latin stereotype and the distant battle of 1966 ... What was cynical and irresponsible Latin temperament in an Argentinian [sic], Uruguayan, or Italian, became solid professional play in a Scot or a Pole (Tudor, 1975, 62-63; see also McCarthy and Jones (1997) and Ryall (1975)). 6 Such „bias‟ was not only apparent in the press. Whilst the rest of the world still does not know whether Hurst‟s third goal in the final actually crossed the line, the FA report on the 1966 finals suggested: “There is nothing controversial now about England‟s third goal, the one which would have been debated as long as football is played, if the human eye alone had been left to confirm or disprove the decision... the proof was forthcoming when the official film of the series, Goal! World Cup, 1966 ...was available. The probing motion picture cameras established unquestionably the validity of the goal in the minds of the record breaking audiences who have seen the film” (Mayes, 1966,100). 7 Aston (1978) provides a useful overview of FIFA pre-tournament training of referees between 1962- 1974. 8 See also Edworthy (2002) for a „celebration‟ of football‟s “bad boys and hard men”‟. 9 See Messner (1992, 72-76) for an exploration of the relationships between „masculinity‟ and „playing hurt‟ and Messner & Sabo (1994, 71-89) on violence, pain, injury and masculinity. See also Messner and Sabo (1990); Dunning and Maguire (1996), Nelson (1996); Pronger (1990); Dunning (1986c), Elias (1986b) and Hargreaves (1986) for useful discussion of sport, violence and the reproduction of gender in sports. 10 See also: Ellis (1954, 141 and 1962, 78-9, 166); Howell (1968, 28); Burtenshaw (1973, 84, 87); Hill & Tomas (1975, 83-86 & 137); Taylor (1976, 125); Partridge & Gibson (1980, 48); (Hackett, 1986, 94 & 96-97) and Thomas (1984, 146).

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11 See also: Hill & Tomas (1975, 68 & 72); Taylor (1976, 101, 110 and 170- 171); Thomas (1984, 18) and Hackett (1986, 38). 12 See: Heimann and Courte (1976, 74); Courte (1980, 86); Marotzke and Hüssy (1982, 226) and Schneider (1994, 173). 13 This point was echoed in Courte‟s TSG report: “In the early games, refereeing was of a reasonably high quality but unaccountably the standard fell away in some of the later games when more experienced referees officiated” (1980, 85). 14 See: Heimann and Courte (1976, 74); Courte (1980, 86); Marotzke and Hüssy (1982, 225) and Nepfer (1990, 262). 15 See: Heimann and Courte, (1976, 74); Marotzke and H ssy (1982, 225); Nepfer (1990, 262) and Schneider (1994, 173). 16 Nominations from national associations were requested in March 1969 when 80 were received. The FIFA Referees Committee had reduced the list of potential candidates to 55 by September 1969 and by February 1970 had selected the final 30. Three were from the host country, nine were from participating countries and 18 were from „neutral‟ (non-participating) countries (Ford and Courte, 1972, 85). By the 1974 tournament, host country referees were only permitted to act as linesmen. Four such officials were selected, along with 11 from participating countries and 19 from non-participating countries (Heimann and Courte, 1976, 73). 17 See also The Times 24/6/86 and 10/7/90. 18 Similar recommendations were made in relation to the offside trap: “The use of the offside trap as a defensive tactic is contrary to the original purpose of the offside law which was to prevent attackers encroaching and poaching behind defenders ... Coaches and players using the perfidious offside trap realise that when it is unlocked, their opponents win a gilt-edged chance to score. Small wonder that they will then use the professional foul of handling the ball or stopping the player if all that ensures is a free kick to be taken against a reorganised defence ... It is time that referees universally gave more encouragement to attacking players when they have been fouled, by allowing them the opportunity of taking a quick free kick if they so wish” (Courte, 1980, 86). 19 Published in: For The Good of the Game. (Cooper, Schneider and Cooper, 1999). See also Furrer, Godoy, and Blatter (1986) and see Nilsson (2000) for a useful discussion on fair play in sport. 20 This article contained a range of pieces from various „representatives‟ of the football figuration (players, managers, referees). See Hill (1959); Aston (1959); Walker (1959); Aston (1959): Slater (1959); Swindon (1959) and Brogdon (1959). Interestingly, Hill (1959, 58) explained players‟ tendency to „cheat fairly‟ by looking at the constraints placed on them by managers and, in turn, on managers by directors. Discussing the practice of players standing on the ball at free-kicks to prevent them being taken quickly, he asked: “[I]s it suggested that managers should instruct their players to stand back and let their opponents shoot the ball into the unprotected net?”. Noting that players were instructed to delay free kicks by their managers, Hill (1959, 58) argued that, if Club Directors were to: “terminate the contracts of their managers less frequently, then perhaps these men in their turn would be able to strive ... for higher standards of conduct at free-kicks”. Hill‟s attempt to explain player behaviours by reference to the relational network of which they are a part is perceptive. However, in „blaming‟ directors he ignores the ways in which they too are constrained to „strive for results‟ (rather than encourage „fair play‟) by other members of the relational network, such as fans and those with a financial „interest‟ in clubs.

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Chapter Nine The Redefinition of Refereeing Problems in the Media In this chapter, attention is paid to the ways in which refereeing issues have come to achieve prominence in contemporary discussions about football. Initially, I explore the expansion of media coverage of football and discuss the ways this coverage has changed. In Chapter Eight, the increasing coverage of violent play and disciplinary problems in World Cup tournaments in The Times indicated how such issues came to be seen as a problem for the game‟s administrators from the 1960s. Below, this issue is explored in a little more depth. The increasing scale of media coverage is examined, in terms of the printed press, radio and television coverage. The changing nature of this coverage is discussed, particularly in terms of the increasing prevalence of criticism of match officials. I examine the role of match commentators, exploring their „duty‟ to inform and entertain viewers and consider the extent to which viewers‟ perceptions of referees might be shaped by commentators‟ analyses of games. I also pay attention to the way in which the ideologies of those ex-players and managers who comment(ate) on games may inform their understanding of refereeing decisions and, in particular, their judgements about whether referees‟ decisions are „right‟ or „wrong‟. Once again, I demonstrate the centrality of the „interpretation‟ issue in this context. Via a mini „case study‟ using a Martin Tyler and Andy Gray match commentary of a televised FA Cup game, I „apply‟ these ideas and examine in detail the way instant replays are utilised. In the final section of this chapter I briefly explore some of the often proposed technological „solutions‟ to refereeing problems.

The key theme in this discussion is that changes in the media coverage of football, both in print and in particular on radio and television, have led to a heightened perception of refereeing as problematic. It is important to note that, whilst this chapter focuses on the changing nature of media coverage of football and its impact on refereeing, it is not argued here that refereeing per se has

291 become increasingly problematic. For, the fact that refereeing problems are deeply rooted historically has, it is hoped, been demonstrated in the preceding chapters. The increasing scrutiny of refereeing and refereeing standards in the media has, it is argued, placed referees under increased pressure, for their decisions are highlighted and their performances criticised (see Colwell, 1998). It is further argued that, the heightened perception of refereeing as a problem has led to increased calls for „solutions‟ to refereeing problems, such as the use of various technological aids (i.e. goal line cameras, the use of video replays both during and after games) and the use of two referees.

Young‟s (1986) analysis of media coverage of the Heysel disaster provides a useful framework for understanding the way members of the media-football figuration have „redefined‟ refereeing problems. He argues that the news process – for which we might substitute „the process of commentating on and analysing football and refereeing in the media‟ - “often has the effect of diverting public attention to the symptoms of forms of behaviour rather than the root causes” (Young, 1986, 255). He goes on to suggest:

the media is not only able to mirror what transpires in the social world, but also to refract or redefine it in a certain fashion … this work of redefinition can have the effect of heightening public reaction, directing it towards control measures which may be inappropriate or unnecessary, and broadly decontextualizing the issue under scrutiny” (Young, 1986, 256).

Below I explore the ways in which such a „redefinition‟ is evident in media coverage of football. First, then, the print media. Once again, all references to press coverage come from The Times, unless otherwise stated.

The Print Media Whilst, as noted elsewhere in this thesis, refereeing issues and problems were noted by referees themselves and by members of the print media in the early 20th century, it was not until the latter half of the century that refereeing became

292 a significant issue in the written press. During the period when British referees were accorded relatively high status abroad, press comment „at home‟ often appears to have been „positive‟. For example, in 1948, Wiltshire noted “how kind the football writers have been to me personally. A good word at times has given one the feeling of a job well done, and when there has been occasion for criticism they have not laid it on too thickly” (Wiltshire, 1948, 20; see also Griffiths (1958, 42-43, 62, 105 & 118). However, by the late 1950s, protests about the treatment of referees by journalists start to appear with some regularity in the minutes of local societies, and in the (auto)biographies of referees. This change in attitude towards the media can partly be explained by changes in the amount and nature of the coverage of football in the press.

The changes in coverage of the World Cup tournaments in The Times provides a good measure of this increase. For example, the first three World Cup finals received no coverage at all in The Times. In 1950, the result of the final match was recorded in a single 50 word paragraph, but, from the 1960s onwards there has been a continual and significant expansion in coverage of the tournament. So, by 1966 there were previews of the tournament in the paper and reports on every match and, by the 1990s, The Times was producing weekly pre- tournament supplements in the four weeks prior to the finals. In comparison to the single paragraph the World Cup Final merited in 1950, the 1998 final between Brazil and France covered four pages of the broadsheet.

With this expansion in coverage has come a change in attitude towards the reporting on football and in particular on referees‟ decisions in games. This has manifested itself in a greater propensity for criticism and a move away from criticising players’ indiscipline towards criticising – indeed blaming – referees for disciplinary problems. For example the report on the 1954 Hungary- Germany final in The Times (5/7/54) included a reference to a last minute offside decision by Welsh referee Mervyn Griffiths, who was acting as linesman for the match. His decision, which denied Hungary a goal, was described as “doubtful” in The Times. However, this criticism was coupled with some

293 understanding and an acceptance that the reporter‟s own view was not necessarily any more „authoritative‟ than the referee‟s: “angles are often difficult from the stand, and one must leave it at that”. Griffiths also notes the following extract from a reporter who had seen film footage of an incident which he had initially seen from another angle:

I remember I joined almost every pressman in that Wembley gallery in denouncing the penalty award by Referee Griffiths. What a shocker, for seen through this [Paramount] camera man‟s lens, I should be in the dock - if they could squeeze me in with the others. The Pressmen and the TV cameras were on the main-stand side - the [Paramount] film camera on the other. And it was the other side which revealed the whole story and also the expert positioning of the referee (Griffiths, 1958, 65, emphasis in original).

As noted in Chapter Eight, the press treatment of violent play in World Cup matches during the 1960s was often explained in terms of foreign players‟ indiscipline, rather than by reference to the way matches were being refereed. However, by the 1970 World Cup, as FIFA made public efforts to deal with violent play, there was a discernible shift in the focus of press comment. The onus of responsibility for player indiscipline was now placed firmly on referees’ shoulders. And so, the tournament preview of the Mexico Finals in The Times (30/5/70) warned: “[t]he future depends on the referees”. However, the West German referees‟ strict application of The Laws in the opening game, which had been „shaped‟ by FIFA instructions, was criticised. One Times reporter commented:

Clearly he was carrying out FIFA‟s instructions to the letter by his strict control. But there are those who are now saying that he went too far in helping to destroy the natural flow of the match... The Russians for one, with four men booked... thought that they had been treated over harshly (2/6/70).

This type of critical analysis is evident in many match reports during the 1970 tournament, with reporters focusing on the referees‟ application of The Laws,

294 rather than on the players‟ willingness to infringe the rules. So, for example, Geoffrey Green observed of the England – Romania match that: “the official broke up move after move with his whistle for seemingly the most trivial contact” (3/6/70). Indeed, this style of coverage – in essence more critical of referees, less critical of players – becomes „the norm‟ from the 1970s onwards, with reporters noting, for example, “quite absurd” penalties being awarded (27/6/78) and “blatant foul[s]” (12/7/82) going unnoticed.

The shift in the style of coverage of refereeing decisions has been compounded by the inclusion of articles and columns by former players and managers, who, as previously discussed, are immersed in the football subculture. As such, these former professionals are often more willing to focus on the perceived shortcomings in referees‟ performances, rather than on criticising their former playing colleagues. These newspaper columns often provide an opportunity for ex-players to criticise referees for „not letting games flow‟, or for penalising „trivial‟ offences – in other words, for not refereeing according to their own view of how the game should be refereed. For example, in his preview piece to the 1990 cup finals predicted: “[w]e are going to need some brave referees who will be guided by commonsense” (9/6/90), but by the end of the tournament he was lamenting that: “[o]ne consistent factor running through this competition has been inconsistent refereeing” ( 9/7/90).

Television Coverage Coupled with this shift in attitude in the written press, changes in the scale and nature of television coverage of the game has contributed to an increasing focus on referees. Radio commentaries on games were introduced on the BBC in 1927 and, in 1937, televised coverage of football began (Arlott, 1960, 202). The FA Cup Final was first televised in 1939 (Wagg, 1984, 41) and only “major matches” (Arlott, 1960, 204), such as the Cup Final and International matches, were televised until the 1980s. “Occasional recorded highlights” (Goldberg and Wagg, 1991, 240) of Football League games were shown on the BBC in the 1950s and, from 1962, on ITV. It was not until the 1983-84 season that the first Football

295 League games were shown live on terrestrial television. Then, 10 games were shown live, by 1988 this had risen to 18 and, by 1992, with the inception of the Premier League, 60 games were shown live each season (Gratton, 2000, 21).

As early as 1962, referee, Arthur Ellis (1962, 116) described television as “the referee‟s Public Enemy No. 1!”. During this period, games were generally covered by just three cameras, although there might be as many as “four, or even five” (Arlott, 1960, 204) for the Cup Final. Then, the priority and problem for television producers was “to keep the ball in view, however fast it [might] be transferred” (Arlott, 1960, 204). As we shall see below, these „priorities‟ have since shifted significantly. At the time, Ellis was concerned that:

all the modern, scientific instruments are being used to try to prove [whether] a decision was right or wrong. [The referee] could have refereed perfectly for 89 minutes and 59 seconds, but no one would remember that. Instead, people would remember that vital second when the camera proved him to be wrong (Ellis, 1962, 116-117).

Whilst Ellis‟s analysis of „how‟ television might shape perceptions of referees was relatively prescient, in 1973 Football League referee Norman Burtenshaw displayed a less critical attitude to television coverage of games. He sympathetically observed of television commentators:

They suffer the same disadvantage as the referee. They cannot stop the action and work out where the move started and who handled the ball in the crowded penalty area. They have to make an instant decision (1973, 140).

The television coverage to which Burtenshaw was referring appears not to have included the use of slow motion replays, which, as discussed below have had a significant impact on the way refereeing decisions and referees are perceived. The type of coverage both Ellis and Burtenshaw describe has changed radically in the intervening years. The coverage of live Premier League football now includes a range of “modern, scientific instruments” which provide viewers

296 with a mass of additional information. Viewers and commentators have access to instant statistics about the number of corners, shots on target, fouls conceded or percentages of possession time between teams. On-screen graphics indicate the „offside line‟, how far from goal a shot or free kick is and how far back the defensive wall should be. Commentators can now access instant, slow motion replays of incidents, taken from any of 20 different camera angles and, as a result, referees and players have their performances scrutinised in more detail than ever before.

The use of the instant replay, in particular, has served to highlight the „mistakes‟ made by referees. Prior to the introduction of technology which allows games to be recorded and played back, all participants in a dynamic game (referees, players, managers, fans, commentators) were afforded one „real time‟ look at an incident. As such, any uncertainty about, for example, whether a player was fouled inside or outside the penalty area could not be removed. The incident might be discussed by different members of the football figuration, but any conclusions would be based on the opinions of participants and their own recollections of the incident. Thus, their conclusions could be based on nothing more concrete than their own recollections of an incident and/or the recollections of other participants. With the introduction of the instant replay such uncertainty can be, and often is, removed. By viewing an incident again on a replay, we are often (but not always) left with no doubt. In such cases, we can say with certainty: „the referee made a mistake‟.

Commentators, Experts and the Construction of Refereeing Problems As Hesling (1986, 173) has observed, televised coverage of sport does not just convey the event itself (in this case, the football match), rather it provides an “illusion of reality, supplying surplus information and dynamising the original sports event into an entertainment spectacle”. Hesling‟s analysis points to the fact that television coverage of a football match is not simply a „neutral‟ presentation of the game itself. Rather, as an “entertainment spectacle”, coverage is supplemented by commentary, opinion and analysis. Thus, games

297 are described and analysed by the commentary team. And, whilst the “first established voice of television was ...‟Jimmy‟ Jewell, formerly an outstanding referee” (Arlott, 1960, 205), from the 1960s commentators have almost always been accompanied by a former player or manager - the „expert summarisers‟. Commentators are there both to analyse the action and, at the same time, to entertain viewers and to make their commentary as interesting and lively as possible. As such, part of their role is to highlight „key incidents‟, such as perceived refereeing „mistakes‟, in order to provide talking points and controversy. In terms of television coverage of refereeing decisions, one consequence of this type of selective commentary, coupled with the use of video replays, has been to significantly increase the pressure on referees, as their „mistakes‟ are highlighted and dissected via the slow motion replay.

In terms of understanding why refereeing has come to be seen as a problem in the contemporary game, an understanding of the „involved‟ perspective of former players is essential. They are not impartial observers on referees, for, as former professionals, their sympathies and interests often (not always) tend to lie with the players themselves. As a consequence of this general tendency, commentators‟ assessments of refereeing „problems‟ most often focus on referees themselves and/or refereeing „standards‟. Attention is less often paid to the ways in which, for example, players‟ willingness to attempt to deceive the referee might lead to a wrong decision. Thus, when a referee wrongly awards a corner kick rather than a goal kick, the referee is likely to be criticised for making a mistake. Commentators and expert summarisers are less likely to draw attention to the ways in which the referee‟s decision-making has been made harder by players of both teams appealing for the decision to be made in their favour. For if, in situations such as this, players were willing to „concede‟ that the corner/goal kick should rightly be awarded to the opposition, rather than indicating that it should be awarded to their own team, referees‟ decision- making would be easier and they would be less liable to make this kind of mistake (see Colwell and Murphy, 2000 for a discussion of this aspect of the

298 football subculture). The general pattern of criticising referees in such situations contributes to the perception that referees are the problem, rather than drawing attention to some of the more underlying causes of refereeing problems which may lie elsewhere in the football figuration.

Coupled with the use of commentators and expert summarisers, television „presentations‟ of football often include another „level‟ of analysis. A studio team of, again, (ex)-players and managers sit on an „expert‟ panel, offering pre- match predictions and half-time and post-match analysis of „key moments‟ in the action. The use of an „expert‟ panel was “a famous ITV innovation for the 1970 World Cup” (Tudor, 1975, 55). For the 1974 tournament, the BBC‟s panel was chaired by former player and manager, Jimmy Hill, and was comprised of a number of (ex) players and managers. Tudor suggests:

the very legitimacy of [the experts‟] opinions and analyses stems in part from their own „star quality‟. Their demands on our credibility depend on our accepting their claims to expertise. But how are we to judge? Television certainly does not subject us to a cumulative process of enlightenment, the persuasive development of which finally convinces us of the expert‟s mastery of his subject (Tudor, 1975, 56).

As noted, the contemporary television coverage of matches usually also involves an „expert summariser‟ paired with a specialist commentator. For Ryall (1975, 41) the commentator‟s analysis “can have a directing force for the television audience... specific incidents during the game are being read for the television audience by the commentator, and also the general pattern of the game is continually being read and reread”. As Hargreaves (1986) suggests, the pairing between commentator and expert summariser is often hierarchical:

The accredited experts usually are former athletes who, in turn, possess high name recognition and whose statements are perceived to convey knowledge and authority. Thus, whereas the commentator has the prime responsibility for description, it is the view of the

299 expert that serves to legitimise media interpretation (Hargreaves, 1986, in McCarthy and Jones, 1997, 349)

Cantelon and Gruneau (1988, 180) have similarly argued that match commentaries can “influence the audience reaction to the game” and that “the right verbal cues could turn a one-sided contest into an exciting spectacle”. However, whether we adjudge television „panellists‟, commentators or summarisers to be experts on the game is not a straightforward or „objective‟ process. In other words, individuals‟ presence on panels or as summarisers does not automatically afford them expert status. And, as Cantelon and Gruneau (1988, 192) noted “audiences are often able to reject or ignore the ... message[s]” conveyed through commentaries. Viewers‟ knowledge of the game or views about how it should be played will shape the extent to which they are granted expert „status‟ and concomitantly, to what extent viewers accept or challenge their analysis of the football action. Viewers not familiar with particular panellists or summarisers may „take for granted‟ their „expert status‟ and thus afford their views „legitimacy‟, whilst those more familiar with their past achievements may make more „informed‟ judgements. Such judgements may be informed by knowledge of them as players and managers (how „good‟ or successful they were, what status they achieved in the game), or how they generally played (were they particularly skilful, or „hard men‟). Viewers‟ judgements on these issues will be further informed by their values: if viewers admire the way they played the game (i.e., skilfully or with more „physical presence‟) they may be more liable to „accept‟ panellists‟ „versions‟ of events. So, coupled with the pictures constituting the television coverage of a game, viewers will be more or less willing to „accept‟ the experts‟ analysis of the action. In essence, viewers of televised football do not necessarily simply accept the analysis of the action which the experts provide.

Radio Commentators: The Eyes of the Listener The potential for commentators to „influence‟ their audience would seem likely to be greater in a radio rather than television broadcast. Radio listeners rely

300 entirely on the descriptions and analyses of the commentator, who: “selects, short-circuits and attempts to give the shape rather than the detail” (Arlott, 1960, 206). Once again, the nature of radio commentary has changed since Arlott was writing. As well as the match commentaries, 24 hour news and sport radio station‟s programmes, such as Radio 5‟s „6.06‟ broadcast almost immediate reactions to matches, and in particular, to contentious incidents in games from players, managers and fans. And, whilst commentators still provide listeners with the detail, they are also – alongside their expert summarisers – more prone to offer analytical observations and opinions about the game. Thus, as Radio 5 Live commentator, Alan Green (2000a) argues, “if a summariser tries to sit on the fence, I‟ll do my best to push him off it”. And, once again the commentators‟ own ideological beliefs about how the game should be played and refereed will shape the way they interpret particular decisions.

For example, Green (2000a, 171), argues he has “no hit-list or set ideas about referees” and that “every referee starts a game with a blemish-free record”. He might, then, be expected to offer his listeners a relatively impartial analysis of referees and refereeing decisions. However, he also reveals some ideological commitments which might be said to undermine any claims he makes to „fairness‟ or of an absence of prejudice. For, he also suggests that most of the refereeing profession is “populated by far too many poseurs and prima donnas” (Green, 2000a, 170). And, in his admiration of former Football League referee, Keith Cooper, he reveals his ideological commitments about how he likes to see the game refereed. Green (2000a, 169) “greatly admired [Cooper] because of the way he applied common sense in his application of the laws”. Similar commitments are revealed in Green‟s (2000a, 174) assessment that the FA have left referees with “too little room for common sense” and how, as a consequence, referees have been forced to show more yellow cards. This, argues Green (2000a, 174), results in more players being sent off (for two yellow cards), which “badly affect[s] matches through unjustified dismissals” thereby

301 “spoiling the game”. Listeners unaware of Green‟s „set ideas‟ are less likely to „know‟ how his analysis of a particular refereeing decision might be „prejudiced‟ by his views on referees and how the game should be played. They are more likely to „accept‟ his account than if they could see and „read‟ the incident themselves. As such, Green, like other radio commentators, is in a relatively powerful position to „shape‟ listeners‟ understandings of refereeing issues.

Consistency and Common Sense: The Football Subculture Construction Green‟s disapproval of „strict‟ refereeing according to FA/FIFA instructions brings us back to the issue of interpretation of The Laws. For, like many media personnel, whilst calling for „common sense‟ to avoid “unjustified dismissals”, Green also wants to see consistency from referees. He argues (2000, 174) “consistency must be the priority, from an individual referee and within a body of referees. Only then would we know where we stand”. Such demands ignore the fact that the two approaches are irreconcilable. For the common sense approach allows increased scope for a diverse range of interpretations. Calls for more „common sense‟ refereeing frequently equate to a demand for „leniency‟: not issuing a caution for what should be a yellow card offence, because to caution a player might result in a sending off which would „spoil‟ the game. And, the lenient, common sense approach has an inevitable consequence: refereeing will become less consistent – different referees will apply their own (different) versions of „common sense‟ differently in different situations (see Elleray, 1998, 55). Whilst, as argued throughout this thesis, the subjective nature of interpreting The Laws inevitably creates the possibility for diverse applications of The Laws, such differences can be, and have been, significantly reduced by explicit definitions of which tackles must be punished by a red card, and which offences must be cautioned by a yellow card. Refereeing has become more consistent as a result of these constraints.

Once again, the „consistency-common sense‟ debate directs attention to the referee as the problem, without looking at the root causes. Players know that

302 kicking the ball away at a free kick to prevent the opposition taking it quickly is a yellow card offence1. Yet, they continue to repeat the „offence‟ in order to reduce the chances of the opposition taking the kick before the defence have had time to move into place in order to defend it. Players adopt such practices because they are „constrained‟ by the need to win games. They are „educated‟ in the football subculture by managers, other players and club personnel in the football figuration and come to understand that they should use any means possible to prevent opportunities for the opposition to score. But such practices – integral to the ideological framework guiding players‟ actions – conflict with the ideological framework underpinning The Laws. This conflict, as noted throughout, is key to understanding refereeing problems.

Significant Incidents: Goals and Fouls and the Video Replay Whilst viewers may critically assess the validity of what „experts‟ say about particular incidents, the television presentation of specific incidents as „significant‟ is perhaps less easy for viewers to „read‟ critically. For, the use of slow motion replays most often focuses on two forms of action: goal mouth incidents and “disputed decisions or fouls” (Tudor, 1975, 64). Such incidents are thus afforded a high status as significant moments in game. Tudor‟s (1975, 57) account indicates the longevity of this trend, for, in 1974, the World Cup coverage on the BBC “repeatedly focused on fouls, endlessly replayed and reconsidered”, leading Tudor to conclude the programme covering games might be more aptly titled “Watch this Foul!”. Weis (1986) has noted a similar trend and, like Tudor, his critique of this process is informed by the belief that such a presentation is „bad‟ for sports:

in the sport-journalistic dilemma between news-reporting and scandal-seeking, the search for good, profit-bringing headline and story leads to overemphasis of unusual, abnormal, violent and otherwise criminal elements to the disadvantage of the portrayal of the (wholesome?) world of sports (Weis, 1986, 228-229).

303 The value judgements about whether the focus on foul play represents an “overemphasis” on the “abnormal” is not the issue here. The pertinent sociological questions concern the effect this trend has on general perceptions of referees, and on understandings of and explanations about refereeing problems. In contemporary coverage, such incidents are still presented as highly „significant‟. Whilst the replays of players‟ goals or misses subject them to close scrutiny, so the replaying of disputed decisions or fouls subjects both players and referees to scrutiny. As Tudor (1975) argues, the slow motion replay is utilised in the latter case:

in arbitrating disputed decisions and in getting the measure of fouls whether penalised or not ... The ... emphasis [on] disputed decisions and fouling ... reflects more of a television self-conception as „outside arbitrator‟, vetting the performance of others, and offering a superior view on „bad‟ elements of the game. Here, consistent with the expert syndrome, „truth‟ is what the experts say the replays tell us! (Tudor, 1975, 64)

Again, whether we accept the expert‟s version of what actually happened is not as straightforward as Tudor implies. For, as noted, viewers are able to bring their own judgement and analysis to the „pictures‟ before them. But, in terms of the „effect‟ of television coverage on the perception of referees‟ decision-making, the slow motion replaying of incidents seems more likely (than experts‟ analysis) to shape audience members‟ views of referees. For, the replay often conclusively demonstrates that referees were „wrong‟ to have adjudged that a player did/did not make contact with another, that a foul occurred inside/outside the penalty area and, (occasionally), that a ball crossed/did not cross the goal line. In such circumstances, the replay offers an „objective‟ measure of whether “a ball has crossed the line”. Cameras provide “more information” and, “as a means of observation[,] the camera shows things which are simply imperceptible to the human eye” (Hesling, 1986, 183). In fact, such incidents are not imperceptible to the human eye (for we can see

304 them on the slow motion replay), but they may be imperceptible when viewed in „real time‟ and from certain viewpoints.

Mini Case Study: Analysis of TV Match Commentary In the following section of this chapter a number of incidents from televised matches during the 2000-01 season are examined and further consideration is given to the effect that television coverage may have on our perceptions of referees. In particular, I examine the role commentators, analysing the „real time‟ action and the slow motion replay, may have in shaping our views of match officials. Here, I present a mini „case study‟ using a Martin Tyler and Andy Gray match commentary and other remarks about referees made by Gray in order to illustrate the analysis presented here. The points raised here are not, however, intended to imply that these issues could only be raised in relation to Tyler and Gray. Rather, it is suggested that the examples used here are representative of many television commentaries on football. For, as Ryall (1975, 45) suggests: “[w]hile a close viewing and analysis of a single match cannot lead to any firm conclusions about the notion of a television football style, it can indicate the kind of patterning that televised football uses”. Initially, I explore Gray‟s „take‟ on refereeing issues.

At the outset of the 2000-01 football season, many journalists, commentators and pundits were discussing Premier League referee ‟s handling of the match between Arsenal and Liverpool, which was televised live by Sky Sports. The three red cards Poll showed during the game became key talking points and the focus of intense media scrutiny2. During his live match commentary and in his post-match comments, Andy Gray voiced his criticisms of the red card decisions, all of which he thought were “harsh” (Mirror Online, 26/8/00). Gray was publicly criticised by Kevin Keegan, the then England manager, who said: “I thought Gray‟s comments were ridiculous. He has got slow-motion cameras, 12 different angles, referees do not have that” (Independent Online, 25/08/00). In turn, Gray defended his comments in his

305 newspaper column, headlined, „Give Me A Break Kev, I‟m Paid To Give My Views‟, claiming:

What Kevin obviously doesn‟t realise is that 99% of the time I judge an incident as it happens, not some time afterwards. I always try to call it the first time I see it so I am reacting in the same way as the referee (Mirror, 26/8/00).

Following Gray‟s analysis, if we accept that he is making a split-second judgement, as referees do, and he subsequently criticises the match official for making a „wrong‟ decision on an incident, he invites viewers to question the referee‟s judgement. As a gifted ex-professional, international footballer and as a pundit and match commentator on Sky since the Premier League‟s inception in 1992, Gray is an authoritative, experienced „voice‟ on the game. This, coupled with the „instant‟ reactions to incidents he describes above, may make his judgement of refereeing decisions seem highly credible. For, as a successful, former player, his analysis of events may be afforded a high degree of legitimacy as he describes the action “as it happens”, “first time”, reacting to incidents “in the same way as the referee”. If the incident is replayed, viewers may become absolutely certain that the referee has made a „wrong‟ decision. In the following analysis, I question the accuracy of Gray‟s assured claims about the way he commentates on matches. I question his claims to be “reacting in the same way as the referee” and look at the way his opinion of how the game should be refereed informs his analysis of whether a referee has made a „wrong‟ decision. Finally I ask what credence can be placed on Gray‟s claim to judge the action “as it happens”.

Whether Gray can be said to be „reacting in the same way as the referee‟ when he commentates on matches is questionable for a number of reasons. First, this ignores, for example, that from live TV pictures or from the commentary position high in the stands and some distance from play, commentators have a different view of the game to that of the referee. The referee has a unique perspective on the pitch and, as such, any other view of incidents will differ.

306 The angle from which an incident is seen may have a significant bearing on how it is perceived; for example, how serious or otherwise it looks. So, sometimes viewers might question why play has been stopped, only to see on a replay from an alternative camera angle that the referee has spotted a foul that they have missed. Alternatively, television pictures or replays from alternative angles may „prove‟ that no contact has been made by a defender on a forward and that the referee has made a „wrong‟ decision in awarding a penalty. For, television pictures sometimes show „controversial‟ refereeing decisions to be „right‟, sometimes to be „wrong‟.

Secondly, the idea that Gray is „reacting in the same way as the referee‟ when he makes a judgement about an incident ignores the fact that referees will, for example, take verbal exchanges between players into account when making decisions. Even with numerous cameras covering games, viewers do not hear or (always) lip-read everything that players say to each other during the game. If the referee hears a player „sledging‟ another, then play may be stopped so that the official can „have a word‟ and try to „cool things down‟ - rather than playing advantage and risking an escalation of tensions and tempers, which is exactly what „sledgers‟ set out to achieve. Similarly, referees do not have to treat similar tackles/incidents in a game in exactly the same way. The Laws allow the referee, for example, either (i) to stop play and award a free kick against the offending team, or (ii) to allow play to continue if stopping play is likely to give the offending team an advantage. So, when the referee stops play for a tackle which looks no different or no more serious than one which went unpunished five minutes previously, it may be explained in terms of this room for interpretation in The Laws.

It is important to recognise, as Gray argues, that he is paid to give his opinions and, as a former player, his insights into the game often add great value and entertainment to the experience of watching televised football. As Comisky et al (1977, 150-151) put it, the role of the contemporary sports commentator includes “the responsibility of dramatizing the event, of creating suspense, sustaining

307 tension, and enabling the viewers to feel that they have participated in an important and fiercely contested event”. As such, it is also important to acknowledge that, in his analysis of the way games are played and refereed and of the decisions that referees make, Gray‟s views are not those of an impartial observer. As a commentator, he is there both to analyse the action and, at the same time, to entertain us and to make his commentary as interesting and lively as possible. Part of his - and any other commentator‟s, - role is to highlight „key incidents‟, such as perceived refereeing „injustices‟, to provide talking points and controversy. Further, Gray – and many match summarisers - speak from the perspective of former players, educated in the „football sub-culture‟. So, Gray‟s sympathies tend to lie most often with players rather than referees. As such, his views on how the game should be played and refereed do not necessarily match those of the game‟s administrators and the referees themselves - indeed, often they conflict with them. This relates to the third oversight in Gray‟s claim to be “reacting in the same way as the referee”: the fact that the Laws of the Game are not „black and white‟. As stressed throughout this study, The Laws have to be interpreted - and Gray‟s interpretations may well be significantly different from those of referees.

Gray‟s view of how games „should‟ be refereed was revealed in his comments on the press reaction to the Arsenal - Liverpool match. He suggested that, as a result of the criticism of Poll, “hopefully the referees will get together and realise that they have to let the games flow a little bit more. No one is suggesting they let crazy tackles go unpunished but a little common sense would be welcome in some cases” (Mirror, 26/8/00). This call to let the game flow is revealing in the sense that it highlights that Gray is not a „neutral‟ observer. He indicates here his hope that referees will start interpreting The Laws in a way which conforms to his view of how the game should be refereed - essentially, with more „discretion‟.

This kind of criticism of „over-zealous‟ referees underlines the ongoing power struggle between different groups about how The Laws should be interpreted.

308 It is a view which ignores though, that, through changes in the Laws of the Game, referees now have to respond to specific incidents with mandatory cautions or red cards. As noted, FIFA has overseen changes to The Laws in order, for example, to afford players more protection against dangerous play. Referees are required to interpret those Laws in a way which conforms to FIFA‟s view of how the game should be played - not in a way which conforms to how commentators or others think the game should be played. The consequences of not doing so are significant for referees: they are likely, at the least, to be subject to the criticisms of their colleagues and, in the case of failing to apply a mandatory card, they are likely to be de-selected from Premier League games (discussed in Chapter Ten). In order to come to a more informed understanding about whether a referee has made the „right‟ or „wrong‟ decision when penalising players, or whether a decision is „harsh‟, these constraints have to be borne in mind. The football-watching public might be in a position to increase their understanding of how a referee has come to make a decision and why a player has been penalised if (former) match officials were utilised as „expert‟ summarisers alongside former players and managers. However, it might be argued that television producers are unlikely to pursue such a policy, for they too are constrained by members of the football figuration: the viewers of football coverage. Such a policy may well reduce the „entertainment‟ value of match coverage. For, a better informed analysis of how a player has contravened the Laws of the Game, rather than a discussion of a what is identified as a blatant misjudgement by a referee is, in this sense, unlikely to qualify as „good television‟.

Having highlighted some of the reasons why the neutrality of Gray‟s interpretation of refereeing judgements might be questioned, in the next section of this chapter I discuss some of his and his co-commentator, Martin Tyler‟s, specific comments on five incidents during the televised FA Cup Fifth Round match between Arsenal and Chelsea in the 2000-01 season. Here, I explore in more detail Gray‟s views on how the game should be played and consider the

309 third and final point: the extent to which Gray comments on incidents as they happen. For each incident, I note the „live action‟ on the pitch, the commentary by Tyler (MT) and Gray (AG), and any replays „consulted‟.

INCIDENT #1: Live Arsenal Free Kick near Chelsea penalty box. Action: MT: “[Arsenal‟s]Pires takes [the free kick into the penalty box] and diving in was Ljungberg”. Live [Arsenal‟s Ljungberg heads the ball wide and out of play, gestures Action: to the referee his shirt had been pulled] AG: “[Ljungberg is] saying his shirt was pulled. There were a lot of decisions like that yesterday at the Stadium of Light concerning Niall Quinn”. [SLOW MOTION REPLAY] “Was the shirt being pulled or not?” [REPLAY shows Chelsea‟s Babayaro holding Ljungberg from behind, with both arms around him]. “I mean, I think that‟s a free kick, Martin. I think that‟s a penalty. I think it‟s a penalty, end of story”.

By „slowing the action down‟ here and noting the sequence of incident- commentary-replay-commentary, it is evident that Gray does not, in this example, call the action „as it happens‟. His implication that the referee has missed something (“Ljungberg saying his shirt was pulled”) is informed by the live pictures of Ljungberg gesturing to the referee that he has been impeded after the incident - not by Gray having seen and called the incident during the live action. Gray is, at that moment, unsure whether Ljungberg‟s claim is a legitimate one (“Was the shirt being pulled or not?”). When the replay makes it clear that Ljungberg was right, Gray‟s doubt is transformed into certainty (“I think that‟s a penalty. I think it‟s a penalty, end of story”).

INCIDENT #23 Live [Ball played forward down wing in front of Ljungberg]. Action: MT: “That‟s a fine ball for Ljungberg”. Live [Ljungberg tackled by Babayaro, ball goes out of play, both fall over, Action: Babayaro gets up first, treads on Ljungberg‟s ankle] MT: “[Ljungberg] wins a corner I thought at first up, off Babayaro, but [referee] Graham Barber has seen a bit more in that”. Live [Barber approaches players, Ljungberg gets up, shouts at Babayaro, Action: Barber separates them, Ljungberg goes down on the ground holding

310 his ankle] AG: “I thought corner myself, Martin, I have to say I agreed with you there”. [SLOW MOTION REPLAY] “Whether he accidentally stands on him here as they go. But [Ljungberg] looking to just nutmeg him. I think that‟s a perfectly legitimate, good tackle, I haven‟t got an argument with it. As he [Babayaro] walks past here, he just catches him there [treads on Ljungberg here on REPLAY]. Yes, you see it there. As I often say in football, it‟s easy to judge with pictures, but only that man knows whether there was any real intent in that or not”.

Again, the sequence of events here indicate that, unlike the referee, Gray is not making „split second‟ judgements on incidents as they happen. In this example, having missed the incident during „live‟ play and then seen it on the replay, Gray reminds us how “easy” it is to “judge with pictures”. It is interesting to note that Gray makes this admission when he has missed something. This kind of empathy is not always in evidence when referees have missed incidents which Gray, or indeed other commentators, then spot. In the next section, two incidents are discussed together:

INCIDENT #3 Live [Arsenal free kick into Chelsea penalty box, Babayaro heads back to Action: keeper, boos from crowd, Chelsea launch attack] MT: “[Babayaro] Certainly not the most popular player at Highbury at the moment”.

INCIDENT #4 Live [Chelsea‟s Dennis Wise makes high, late tackle on Cole ] Action: MT: “Ooh, and now Wise follows in to Cole” Live [play stopped, free kick to Arsenal] Action: AG: “It‟s taken a while for the game to warm up in that respect, but a couple of little incidents, 2 events involving Babayaro, 1 Wise”. [SLOW MOTION REPLAY of INCIDENT #4] “I have to say it‟s much ado about nothing. But this is the incident at the other end”. [SLOW MOTION REPLAY of INCIDENT #3] “Does Babayaro do anything?” [REPLAY shows Babayaro head ball back to his goalkeeper, then „flick‟ out a leg and trip Bergkamp] “Yeah he does. Now, that‟s crazy, absolutely crazy. If Barber spots that, he‟s probably off, he‟s probably given a penalty away, and his team are probably one down”.

311

Once more, Gray‟s uncertainty (“Does Babayaro do anything?”) becomes clarity on seeing a replay (“Yeah he does”). It might be argued that these examples represent the 1% of incidents that Gray did not call as they happened. However, having studied a number of match commentaries from the 2000-01 season4, the evidence suggests that this is not the case. Most often a commentator‟s „concrete‟ judgement on an incident comes whilst viewing the replay. Certainly a questioning, uncertain tone is often transformed into a persuasive, final statement about a „mistake‟ after a „second look‟. Again, it should be stressed that by pointing this out in Gray‟s commentaries, the intention is not to dismiss wholesale his insightful and exciting style of commentary which, as suggested, makes watching live football on television extremely entertaining. It is, however, intended to cast doubt on the neutrality of his analysis of refereeing decisions and on his claims to be making the same kind of judgements as referees make. As noted, the replaying and analysis of refereeing decisions is a ubiquitous feature of television coverage and is something which is likely to shape viewers‟ ideas about the credibility of referees. Such a point underlines the need for viewers and those concerned with maintaining „refereeing standards‟ to critically examine „how‟ and „why‟ commentators arrive at their judgements about referees. As Gray admits; “It‟s easy to judge with pictures” - the kind of hindsight from which referees do not benefit. Let us rejoin the action one last time - as Gray suggests, the game is starting to “warm up”:

INCIDENT #5 Live [Wise is tackled late by Pires near halfway line] Action: MT: “As the ball was played forward by Wise, then Pires [was] just a little bit late” AG: “That‟s more like it. It‟s warming up now”. [live pictures of Wise talking to Pires] [AG: laughs] “Well done, Dennis. That‟s what I like, someone to get the game warming up”. [Wise seen mouthing “F*** You” to [Arsenal's] Henry, who „squares up‟ to him. Barber whistles] MT: “Henry, maybe wanting to speak up for Pires” Live Action: [Wise pushes Henry, who pushes Wise back on chest/neck. Number of other players pushing and shoving]

312 MT: “Which was a stupid decision really. And it‟s suddenly gone off at Highbury”. AG: “Well, I‟m not sure what Henry‟s getting involved in here, Martin. I have to say, I mean, it‟s absolutely stupid. There hasn‟t been a tackle worth the name in the game, so far. If you push and shove and handbag. It‟s so petty. Well, I said the game was warming up nicely, I didn‟t mean it should warm up like this. This is ridiculous”.

This final incident again brings to the fore Gray‟s view of how the game „should‟ be played. There is no room in his game for „handbagging‟. As this gendered language indicates, football is, for Gray, a „man‟s game‟. „Real men‟ do not push and shove each other, they tackle each other - „properly‟ and with tackles “worth the name”. Despite the fact that there has been some „wrestling‟ (INCIDENT #1), an (accidental) stamping (INCIDENT #2), an „off the ball‟ kick (INCIDENT #3) and two late tackles (INCIDENTS #4 & #5), for Gray, “there hasn‟t been a tackle worth the name in the game so far”. Such an assessment raises questions about what Gray would see as a „proper‟ tackle, or, indeed, what he would acknowledge as a foul tackle. A late tackle by Pires (“That‟s more like it. It‟s warming up now”) and a bit of sledging by Wise (“Well done, Dennis”) seem to represent aspects of Gray‟s „ideal‟ view of how the game should be played. That Dennis‟s remarks have the consequence of sparking off a bout of “handbags” (as Gray puts it), seems to come as a surprise to him. Whilst Gray had not hoped that such events would culminate in a brawl (“I didn‟t mean it should warm up like this. This is ridiculous”), this kind of reaction is, perhaps, a likely outcome of the kind of approach to playing the game which he advocates - a late tackle here, a spot of sledging there.

The sequence of incidents highlighted in this mini case study, some seen and penalised by Barber, some unseen, have a cumulative effect. Tempers gradually fray and the result is a confrontation involving most of the players on the pitch. If referees were to use the kind of discretion which Gray advocates, it is likely that this kind of conflict would become a more regular feature of matches. Referees who stop the game regularly might be seen by Gray, and other

313 members of the football figuration, as „overzealous‟. However, such an approach to match control might be more adequately be understood as the „management‟ of players. Through such „management‟, it seems likely that referees might reduce the potential for what Gray sees as “ridiculous... handbags”.

The ‘Solutions’ to Refereeing ‘Problems’ Having explored the changing nature of media coverage of the game, the final section of this chapter briefly explores one of the often proposed „solutions‟ to refereeing problems: technological innovations. It is argued here that these „solutions‟ address the problem of refereeing as it has come to be defined and understood through the contemporary media coverage of football. In other words, such solutions do not „resolve‟ the more fundamental, long term causes of refereeing such as the ever-present potential for conflict generated by the need for the Laws of the Game to be interpreted. Nor do they address the problems raised by, on the one hand, the conflicting ideologies which find expression in the football subculture and, on the other, the „fair play‟ ideologies guiding football administrators. As I demonstrate in the following analysis, such „solutions‟ are unlikely to solve refereeing problems. For, it is argued, they are framed by an inadequate understanding of the nature and causes of refereeing problems.

Technology Many football commentators, along with those more directly involved in the game have come to regard technological assistance as the answer to refereeing problems (see Schechter (2000)); as a kind of panacea to refereeing ills. For example, Bob Wilson, the former Arsenal goalkeeper and TV commentator and pundit recently argued:

What the referee needs is an extra set of eyes on the field of play, and it should be a former player, someone with empathy for the game from within... Cricket, rugby league, American football, a host of other sports use technology. Why can‟t football follow suit? Offside decisions could be cleared up in 5-10 seconds; so could goal line

314 decisions or penalty claims... We have the technology. We should be attempting to improve the health of the game (The Electronic Telegraph, 26/12/1997).

Goal Line Technology The use of goal line technology to adjudge whether the ball has crossed the line is one „technological‟ intervention which would seem to present few „problems‟: it involves decisions of fact rather than interpretation. But, there are still a number of issues raised about such an innovation. The first relates the extent to which technology is fallible. Cyclops, or the „eye on the line‟ employed in tennis competitions since the late 1980s, demonstrates this point. During tournaments such as Wimbledon, players occasionally „question‟ the umpire in relation to the electronic signal emitted by Cyclops. Umpires occasionally decide to over-rule Cyclops, or to switch the machine off. Though the introduction of goal line technology may reduce the occurrence of goals which should have been awarded but haven‟t, and vice versa, evidence provided by the use of Cyclops suggests that technology is not infallible. Even with relatively clear-cut decisions, such as those concerning whether or not a ball has crossed a line, problems - and therefore controversy - may remain. And, the notion of utilising technology in elite level football - the only level of the game wherein clubs might be able to afford it - ignores the constraints experienced by FIFA. All Laws changes approved by the IFAB are underpinned by the „guiding principle‟ – or ideological commitment to – the universal nature of the Laws of the Game. For technology to be introduced in certain areas of the game and not others, this ideological „barrier‟ would have to be overcome.

The Video Replay The notion of the referee, or a fourth official in the stands having access to the „third eye‟ - in other words, video replays of incidents - is a commonly proposed solution to refereeing problems. This proposal raises significant questions about potential changes to the way the game is played and regulated- When might referees call for use of the third eye? Who will make the decision

315 on the video replay of the incident? And, what are the implications if, after a video replay, a decision still cannot be reached? These questions are addressed in turn below.

If referees have access to the „third eye‟, during the course of the game, decisions will have to be made about whether, and when, to stop the game and review the incident. Guidelines might be issued, for example, limiting the use of the replay to incidents occurring in the penalty area, in order to limit interruptions to the game‟s flow. However, often incidents outside of the penalty area can prove highly significant to a game‟s outcome. Some obvious examples include red and yellow card decisions anywhere on the pitch, fouls on players outside the penalty area who are clean through on goal, and free kicks awarded within range of goal. If the pursuit of refereeing accuracy leads both to a greater dependence on technology, and a wider range of incidents being defined as „eligible‟ to appeal for the video replay, the free flowing nature of football is likely to be compromised. If such technology is made available, then, given the calls for greater refereeing accuracy, it would be an understandable outcome if referees began to stop the game and check the replay for every close- call decision, as has occurred with run out decisions in cricket, in order to avoid post-match criticism. A significant unintended consequence of this proposal, therefore, might be to disrupt the free flowing nature of the game, which, for many, is one of its central attractions.

The second question concerning who should make the decision on the video replay of incidents raises further potential problems. If examples in other sports are followed, such as cricket and rugby league, this would involve a fourth official off the pitch reviewing video replays. This may have the effect of reducing the level of refereeing consistency, which is currently achieved in football by having just one individual responsible for decision-making throughout a game. The presence of a decision-making fourth official would be likely to have an impact on the referee‟s ability to use discretion in their application of the Laws of the Game. The referee on the pitch, as noted, hears

316 exchanges between players, and makes judgements about the need to stop the game if things are becoming too heated, or the need to, instead, „have a quiet word‟ and allow play to continue. In other words, the exchanges between players are taken into consideration when the referee uses discretion, and applies the „spirit‟, rather than the „letter‟, of the law. The fourth official would not be in a position to hear these exchanges, or to exercise such discretion. If such an innovation was to be employed, we might, therefore, expect a more strict, less discretionary application of the Laws of the Game.

The third question again relates to the extent to which technology is fallible. Often during televised games, even replays of incidents do not prove conclusive. An incident during the 1998 World Cup game between Brazil and Norway demonstrates this point. Television pictures appeared to show Norwegian forward Flo diving in the penalty box to win Norway a penalty, which proved to be decisive. Several days later, however, pictures from Swedish television, presenting the incident from a different angle, showed that a Brazilian player had, in fact, pulled the Norwegian down, eventually proving the referee‟s decision to have been correct. This example, once more, raises the problems created by players‟ willingness to deceive the referee – a significant causal factor in refereeing problems which proposals for technology simply do not address.

These issues and examples suggest that we need to reconsider the view that technology will provide unproblematic solutions to the perceived problem of refereeing. Clearly technological innovations may help to achieve more accurate decisions, more often. But the way these issues are resolved may not only have a significant effect on the way the game is refereed, but also on the nature of the game itself, on the way it is played. The analysis of the proposals for various technological aids briefly discussed here points to the fact that such „solutions‟ do not address the fundamental causes of refereeing problems: issues around interpretation and the conflicting ideologies between different members of the

317 football figuration. The introduction of technological innovations are likely to alter the course of the existing debate, but are unlikely to result in its tidy conclusion. For the proposed „solutions‟ discussed briefly here simply recreate the ever-present „interpretation‟ dilemma.

1 Although kicking the ball away at a free kick to prevent the opposition taking it quickly was a mandatory yellow card offence, The Law relating to this has subsequently been „relaxed‟ – see Chapter Ten. 2 Vierra and Hamman were both sent off for 2 yellow card offences. McAllister was red carded for a 2 footed challenge. Poll rescinded Hamman's second yellow card. McAllister's sending off and an incident not seen by Poll (a tread on McAllister's hand by Arsenal's Grimandi) were referred to the FA's Video Advisory Panel (VAP). The VAP was set up to advise the FA Chief Executive about charges brought against players either (i) as the result of an incident missed by referee, or (ii) to review an incident which resulted in a player being shown a straight red card, leading to a 3 match suspension. McAllister's card was upheld by the VAP. Grimandi was found guilty of improper behaviour and bringing the game into disrepute and was fined £3,000 and given a 1 match ban. 3 This incident, not seen by Barber, was referred to the VAP. Babayaro was charged with violent conduct for the alleged stamp, but The FA Disciplinary Commission found the charge “not proved”. Babayaro gave evidence that it had been accidental and the panel ruled that he was entitled to the benefit of the doubt. 4 These commentaries were studied as an aspect of the planned match analysis I had intended to include in this study (See Colwell, 1999), but which I did not pursue for the reasons outlined in Chapter Two.

318 Chapter Ten: Refereeing in The Premier League The following chapter analyses the interview material from 23 semi-structured interviews with elite level refereeing personnel, conducted during the 2000-01 season. Below, I explore the ways referees, match observers and referee coaches „see themselves‟ in relation to other members of the football network. Participants‟ experiences are contextualised within the relational network of which they are a part. I examine their understandings of their relationships with other members of the football figuration and their views on issues such as the interpretation of The Laws and the training and assessment procedures they are subject to. In particular, I consider the ways in which a number of the strategies employed by the Premier League to „improve‟ refereeing standards may actually have a detrimental affect on the referees‟ ability to perform. Initially, I outline the refereeing „structure‟ which was in place when I interviewed participants and explore their views on the relationships between Premier League club personnel, Philip Don and The FA. I then turn my attention to some of the problems raised by Don‟s employment by the Premier League.

The Premier League Referees’ Department

In 2000-01, the National Review Board (NRB)1 oversaw separate referees and assistant referees lists for the Premier League and the Football League. At the time the interviews for this study were carried out, 20 referees were on the Premier League list. Philip Don, a member of the NRB, had overseen the Premier League Referees Department since his post was created in 1998, whilst Jim Ashworth oversaw the training and appointment of the Football League officials. As noted previously in this thesis, the system of separate refereeing departments at the Premier and Football Leagues meant that, uniquely within FIFA, the appointment and training of match officials was the responsibility of League refereeing departments, rather than the national association. Whilst the

319 FA retained overall responsibility for refereeing issues, Don argued that “clubs don‟t really understand the relationship between the Premier League Referees‟ Department and The FA”. This „confusion‟ led to some tensions for Don, in terms of the constraints his joint responsibility to the Premier League and the FA exerted:

clubs „phone me and say, „well, can you ask the referee to look at this video, at this particular incident‟. Now, I‟ve got to then turn round and say, well unfortunately, it‟s the Football Association that can ... I can say to a referee, „right I‟ve seen that, maybe you ought to look at it‟ and we‟ve had 4 or 5 cases this year, where having discussed an incident with a referee, they‟ve then written to The FA and said „I think I got that wrong‟, and will rescind that yellow card or that red card. But ... at the end of the day, The FA are the governing body, they determine the disciplinary process, sanctions and so on, and I‟ve helped clubs, and clubs are grateful, but, ... the clubs would like to see me take on more of that role, whether that‟s just to get their players off, and I‟ve got the difficulty of remembering that at the end of the day, I‟m employed by the Premier League (yes) and I‟ve got a job to do, and at the same time, there are occasions when I probably appear to be defending the referees.

In some ways, then, Don‟s employment by the Premier League was apparently perceived by club personnel as a means of exerting some influence with the FA, in terms of potentially reducing disciplinary measures against their players. This process of „negotiation‟ might be said to have undermined referees and, as a consequence, to have made their task more difficult. The creation of the Premier League Referees‟ Department, however, also had repercussions which might be seen to alleviate some refereeing problems. For, Don suggested:

When the officials were appointed by The FA, who were responsible for the discipline of players, etc., there was always a lack of trust between managers and The FA. The managers felt no one listened to them at The FA, as it appeared the referee was always supported.

The separation of the refereeing and disciplinary processes was understood by Don to have fostered more positive relationships between clubs and referees. For example, it facilitated a process of education:

320

at the beginning of this season, 13 clubs invited referees in to talk about law changes and so on. And we gradually do it on a drip feed. We can‟t compel clubs. Just as I invite coaches and managers to a pre-season meeting, we had 19 out of 20 this year, when I first came here it was about 13, and so it has improved ... clubs do approach me far more, and I probably speak to about 70% of managers on a regular basis.

The involvement of club personnel in such processes can, in theory, aid referees by increasing understanding about what they are expected or required to do. By engaging managers in such discussions, they are at least likely to be in a position to convey new laws or interpretations to their players – though whether players or managers are willing to accept and comply with such changes is another matter. But the constraints exerted on Don by the conflicting demands placed on him by clubs and by the FA raised significant problems for him. A number of referees identified the ways in which they understood Don, and subsequently themselves, to be constrained by these members of the football figuration:

The Premier League as a corporate body is a business, isn‟t it? It‟s a business that exists to make 20 clubs money. It‟s a very naive referee who doesn‟t recognise that as a matter of fact and know exactly where the power base of football is in this country. ... So... you have to know the politics. ... Now [Philip Don] is a conduit for what the FA Premier League want, so you have to understand that, because when you read a letter, you have to be aware who the letter comes from. And again, unfortunately there are some naive people amongst our group who don‟t understand that, they think that Philip can just run the referees‟ department how he wants. Well, plainly, he can‟t... [PL5].

The „letter‟ referred to here was sent out to all Premier League referees by the League‟s Chief Executive, Richard Scudamore, in February 2000. After the first half of the season, when “we had an absolute Mount Etna of cards” [MO8],

321 Scudamore requested referees to interpret The Laws with more ”flexibility”. One referee observed:

the clubs, who ultimately run the league, I think they were looking for a little bit more flexibility from the referees (right) and ... I welcomed it at the time [PL4].

It is notable that the instructions from Scudamore focused on referees as the „problem‟. Rather than instructing clubs to examine the ways in which they could influence player behaviour in order that they might avoid cautions and sendings-off, Scudamore (presumably influenced by the Premier League club chairmen) sought to solve the problem by instructing referees to operate more leniently. That this instruction was acceded to by Don, by the FA and by the referees themselves underlines the relative power of Premier League clubs to influence refereeing policy. For, the views of a powerful minority of clubs in the football figuration had a significant impact on refereeing practices. A number of the referees offered insights into the ways they understood Don to have been constrained by the clubs – his employers – to „accept‟ their instructions, and thus to encourage a more „lenient‟ approach from his referees. The way in which this conflicted with the other aspect of his job; to ensure that The Laws are interpreted in line with FIFA and FA guidelines was recognised by one referee:

Philip‟s got a difficult position because... he‟s working for the Premier League (yeah) so he‟s got to be seen to be making sure his referees are performing at the highest level, not upsetting the apple cart if you like (yeah). So, we had a situation last year where we were all refereeing strongly, there was lots of red and yellow cards thrown about, and suddenly the Premier League had a meeting where it was a bit „we need to calm down‟ (yeah). So you‟ve got, who are you going to please? Philip‟s sitting there, he‟s got steam coming out of his ears, because they‟re almost contravening law (yeah, yeah) and on the other hand he‟s got to be careful because he doesn‟t want to lose his job (no) and we‟re all sitting there thinking, „well, what‟s the

322 message?‟ (yeah) So, it‟s conflicting messages, but, so that‟s the difficulty that he‟s got now [PL8].

The „conflicting messages‟ created by Scudamore‟s intervention can be seen, once again, to actually create more difficulties for referees. The demand for more leniency increases the scope for differing interpretations of The Laws, which, in turn increases the likelihood of „inconsistent‟ refereeing. And whilst club personnel often call for greater consistency from referees, often they do not like the way in which that is achieved. For, as one referee argued:

if we apply ... mandatory cautions ... as happened last season for a while, at the beginning of the season (yeah) the number of red cards and yellow cards went through the roof, and the clubs went, „hang on a minute we don‟t like this‟. Well, we were all being a bit consistent there, I think! ... a letter went out ... that said just have a think about this, not every tackle is a foul, not every foul is a caution, then people backed off, but then when they backed off, we come back to what you said about discretion, you know, because it was no longer clear [PL2].

Whilst refereeing personnel (such [MO8] and PL4], quoted above), often share players‟ and managers‟ ideological commitment that it would be desirable if they could avoid issuing cards, they are also more often alive to the detrimental consequences of such an approach for levels of consistency. This points to the „dangers‟ for football administrators concerned with maintaining refereeing standards, of allowing their policy to be guided by the predilections of club personnel. For, in essence, clubs call for more leniency because they are concerned that a strict (relatively consistent) approach results in their players receiving „too many‟ bookings and thus becoming unavailable to play through suspension.

The „success‟ of Scudamore‟s interventions, in terms of altering refereeing practices is likely to have been viewed as a significant „victory‟ for club

323 personnel in the ongoing power struggle between clubs and refereeing administrators. One referee offered particularly interesting insights into the relationships between clubs and the Premier League Referees‟ Officer:

I think a lot of the clubs hate Philip Don, and ... that‟s an open secret. Because Philip Don tells his referees how they will referee, strictly by the book ... and it will not be shirked and managers don‟t like that (no). I think Philip has got the utmost respect of all referees, and I feel that Philip, unfortunately because he‟s employed by the Premier League, there are lots and lots of things Philip would like to say in the press in support of his referees and he won‟t be allowed to say it [PL6].

As the above example indicates, within the relational network in which they operate, football administrators will be more or less able to resist the demands of other members of the football figuration. Thus, while being aware of the ways in which Scudamore‟s instructions would negatively impact on his efforts to establish greater consistency between referees, Don was constrained to act in accordance with his wishes because of his position as a Premier League employee. And, whilst Don and other members of the refereeing figuration are understandably keen to „get managers onside‟, such a policy has involved significant compromise on Don‟s part in order to achieve this. As well as the previously noted case, another particularly striking example of this was revealed by one referee coach:

we want absolutely no diminishment of penalising the physical things, the illegal tackle (yup), the holding the pulling, the spitting, but we are prepared for referees to man manage the technical offence ... we have a thing called „the ball going missing‟, ... what that really means is that, if a team is awarded a free kick, sometimes the offending side is skilled at making sure they can‟t take it very quickly (yup), and we call that the ball going missing (right). Well, in theory, the referee must caution a player, if he delays the restart, okay, ... if he shows dissent (yup) - you could argue kicking the ball away shows dissent - or refuses to retire the correct distance. We are

324 now saying, sometimes when the ball goes missing, it isn‟t necessarily infringing any of those three things (okay). And, because perhaps they‟re not ready to take the free kick, and in the past it‟s been interpreted sometimes very strongly that, if the ball goes missing, you caution somebody.... We are saying in terms of man management, in terms of identifying with the clubs, in terms of making the players feel we have some sympathy (okay) for the non- physical, the non horrible offences, let‟s have a little man management (right). So we are trying to move to some extent towards the clubs if they move towards us [RC3].

This extract provides significant insights into the (unforeseen) consequences of attempting to „identify‟ with clubs and players. In pursuing one aim – improving relations between referees and players - those overseeing referees unintentionally undermine one of their other key aims: to achieve, as far as possible, consistent refereeing performances. The „drawbacks‟ of inconsistent refereeing, and the benefits of a more consistent approach were expressed by one referee:

You used to have the [name of referee, known for „lenient‟ approach] type of referee, and when I first started on the Football League, for example, I used to dread following [that referee] to a game because... he wouldn‟t apply the laws correctly, and then you would go the following week and do it, and it would cause problems, massive problems. But now, it‟s more consistent than it ever was, although you‟ve still got a little bit of a gap where chaps don‟t, who prefer to manage players, I mean I prefer to manage players if I can, but you cannot manage a tackle from behind straight into the back of somebody (no) you cannot manage somebody booting the ball away after you‟ve given a free kick, because they are mandatory instructions. So there‟s certain things you can’t manage [PL3].

These insights into the problems raised by a „common sense‟ approach to refereeing underscore why calls for this type of approach, such as that made by Green (2000) (noted in Chapter Nine), are, in general, wisely ignored by contemporary refereeing administrators. As one referee eloquently put it: “referees tend to shudder a bit when they hear „common sense‟” [PL1]. Another

325 referee coach stressed: “we must ensure that, from a consistency point of view, the referees get the mandatory offences right. That is in tablets of stone ... and we work on that religiously” [RC2]. “Delaying the restart of play” is defined as a cautionable offence in The Laws of the Game (Law 12, FA LOTG, 26). By affording referees the power to interpret whether the „ball going missing‟ delays the restart may allow players to avoid “a silly booking” [MO3], but it also would seem to increase the scope for other problems. For as one referee argued:

I think that there is a danger that ... even at this level, some mandatory instructions do not get carried out and then that causes some conflict [PL2].

The example of the „ball going missing‟ discussed here is intended to illuminate the ways in which football administrators are often constrained to act in ways which may contradict or undermine their own principles, beliefs and policy aims. Given the problems raised by conflicts between managers and referees, the „concession‟ of this „technical offence‟ is an understandable compromise. In general however, Don and his colleagues remained committed to the more „consistent‟ approach to officiating. Below, I explore the ways the training and instruction and the support „mechanisms‟ Don introduced between 1998-2001 were experienced by those involved. In this context, I also explore the ways that many of the procedures introduced to achieve the goal of improved refereeing standards have had the unintended consequence of undermining referees‟ confidence and put them under increased pressure. It is important to note here that the drive for improved standards is often called for by members of the football figuration. Don‟s job was to achieve that improvement. But, as noted, focusing solely on referees will not solve refereeing problems. For whilst referees‟ training, coupled with the observation and assessment of their performances addresses one aspect of the problem, it does not, of course, address the underlying causes of that problem discussed throughout this thesis.

326 Referee Coaches: Improving Performance and Supporting the Referees

Between 1998-2001, Don introduced numerous measures designed to achieve improved refereeing performances. For example, he appointed four referee coaches, each of whom is responsible for five referees and between ten and twelve assistants. Their role is to “support” the referee on match days and to provide ongoing training and coaching. One coach described his role thus:

I would think that the key accountability, the key task is to improve referees‟ performances ... But everything is supportive of that, whether it be the fitness side, whether it be the diet side, whether it be purely counselling (Mmm) because if they‟ve been out for a few weeks with an injury, and you‟ve got to nurture them and listen to them and, just keep their pecker up when they‟re down (Yeah). It‟s all part of the role [RC2].

As this extract indicates, as well as keeping “their pecker up”, a key aspect of the coach‟s role is to improve referees‟ performances. As part of this process, referees complete self evaluation forms and discuss them with their coaches following games. Coaches watch one of their referees in action each weekend, watch the match videos and read the match observers‟ reports. Don also initiated the process of compiling video clips on a monthly basis for the referees to discuss in their regular meetings with coaches. These clips provided the basis of discussion around questions posed by Don:

I will just put a question: „was this careless or reckless?‟; the management of a free kick - „were the players ten yards, did he manage the wall?‟; „was there co-operation between the referee and assistant?‟; „should it have been a red card for denial of an obvious goal scoring opportunity instead of a yellow for unsporting behaviour?‟ So I pose the questions, and that then opens it up for discussion. And by doing it that way there is a greater consistency in terms of identifying offences.

Coupled with these meetings with coaches, all referees met up for training seminars on five or six weekends a year. Similarly, compilations of clips formed

327 the basis for discussion at these meetings. Whilst I have discussed the ways in which referees positively viewed the relatively high levels of consistency between referees which had been achieved under Don‟s guidance, some of the more „negative‟ consequences of the processes through which that was achieved were voiced by several referees. For example:

To be quite honest, I mean I feel it‟s too much (right) It‟s too intense, and too [] analysis, paralysis, whatever you want to call it, you know, going in to it in too much depth. I think it creates a worry, fear factor (right, okay, yeah). ... I look at my mistakes on video, etc., but then I want to put it behind me and get on with the next game. I don‟t want to dwell on it and have it shoved down my neck continually like it can be. We went to this meeting this weekend, I mean we had the videos, we looked at all the mistakes and things like that which had happened, but you know, I don‟t know what good it does in the long term, because we will go there again in 2 or 3 months time and be looking at similar things, because they, those things will happen (yeah, yeah) because we‟re human beings for Christ‟s sake! [PL3].

This account points to the fact that the quest for „perfect decision-making‟ is a futile one, essentially because, as this referee put it “we‟re human beings for Christ‟s sake!”. This insight, though rudimentary, is something which does not often seem to be acknowledged in discussions about refereeing problems. The way in which such scrutiny was experienced by this referee pointed to an unintended consequence of Don‟s drive for greater consistency through the use of video analysis:

we go and it‟s viewed in front of everybody, so you‟ve got all your referees and your assistants looking at it, and ... it can be a confidence thing (yeah) it can, if you‟re not careful, it can knock your blimmin confidence, and I think it has to some referees. (Right, yeah, that‟s interesting, yeah). Because there‟s too many negatives, right, when you go to these, like at the meeting at the weekend, that shows these mistakes and errors, and this should have been and that should have been done, for everyone, of our mistakes there‟s dozens of good practices, but you don‟t see them (no) you see all the negatives [PL3].

328

The question of confidence appeared to be hugely significant for referees – perhaps not surprisingly, given the high profile, high pressure environment in which they referee. One referee explained the importance of confidence thus:

Self doubt is the enemy of performance. You cannot, cannot perform at the level that we perform with any level of self doubt or indecision. ... I‟ve seen top class referees fail because they‟re worried about failing. And ... I‟ll be honest, take [names of 2 former Premier League referees] you can tell from the moment you meet them they won‟t be successful, the moment you meet them. Because you can just tell people who will be and people who won‟t be.... it‟s just a presence (yeah). It‟s... the ingredients that go into that presence of being a top class person at any level of life, they‟re just there. ... But they can have it one minute, and they can lose it the next, it can revolve on one poor game, one bad decision. that‟s not to say I won‟t have these games, to date, touch wood, I won‟t [PL5].

This account highlights the need for referees to feel confident in order to perform at their best. Given the centrality of this „feeling‟, the potentially negative effects of the scrutiny of their mistakes by their colleagues would seem to be highly significant. For it suggests that, again, in the quest for improved refereeing standards, some of the methods which are used to achieve that goal may actually have an unintentional, detrimental effect on their ability to perform. The understanding that “one poor game, one bad decision” can have such a devastating effect on a referee was present in many of the referees‟ accounts. As one referee coach put it:

they‟re on a two year contract now on the Premier League (yep) for a short time, and it could be very fragile, one game can ruin a guy, as it did [Premier League referee]. ... So there are very, very sensitive issues to be managed [RC3].

Many of the referees interviewed for this study expressed sentiments which implied that they expected they were going to have „one of those games‟ at

329 some point. For example, one referee coach who described the way that one of his referees was experiencing “a fantastic run, very high marks” was conscious that “the bubble‟s going to burst”[RC3], whilst another referee revealed that similar feelings informed the way he approaches every game:

The pressures are always there, so, I mean, I go out thinking „this could be a banana skin‟ [PL8].

Whilst another suggested:

I have no doubt that somewhere along this path, something is going to explode, and for a few days, I‟m going to be big news [PL6].

‘Demotion’ From the Premier League Whilst there might be “very, very sensitive issues to be managed”, Don‟s role at the Premier League involved combining this aspect of management with other „needs‟. Again, largely as a consequence of his employment by the Premier League, Don was constrained to act in ways which demonstrated to “the media, the clubs” that referees were “accountable”. One facet of this policy included the „movement‟ of referees between the Premier League and the Football League for those deemed to have performed unsatisfactorily – in other words, demotion from the Premier League, or promotion from the Football League. In the 2000-01 season, this „movement‟ was initiated mid-season. Once again, referees understood that such a policy was not necessarily of Don‟s choosing:

I don‟t think Philip was overstruck about mid season movement, but because we were on one national list, he was told he‟d got to do that (right, yes) but I think if he‟d had his way he wouldn‟t have done it [PL6].

330 I asked referees whether they thought about the possibility of being „relegated‟ from the Premier League. Again, the need to avoid negative thoughts or self doubt was stressed by referees in order that they could remain focused:

I think all you can do is to go out and referee as best you can. You must be positive, if you‟re not positive about the game... you will thereby bring about the possibility of an unsatisfactory performance. I don‟t think too much about relegation (no) because if you do, it becomes a mindset.... So I don‟t give that much thought to, because it‟s something that by giving thought to, it‟s negative [PL1].

Whilst this avoidance of negative thoughts might be the ideal approach to the issue of „demotion‟ for referees concerned to stay „confident‟, one referee revealed how and when thoughts about demotion occurred to him:

It is very competitive (yes) and it can, during some darker moments you can sit and worry about it (okay). Because obviously you‟ve now attained, you know, a very high profile, you are very visible, and if you fail, your failure is very, very visible (yeah) and you‟ve got to be very strong to come back,...... the cost of failure is so high [PL2].

Once again, the drive for improved refereeing standards and the need to be „shown to be accountable‟ seems likely, for referees such as [PL2], to have the opposite effect. For, the prospect of a fairly public demotion led to self doubt and „worry‟. Whilst the „need‟ for such policies were accepted by other (former) referees, once again, such policies were understood to have a potentially significant effect on referees‟ self-perceptions:

[„Relegation‟ is] a tremendous knock ... I think that is the negative side, I think, but then, that existed previously (yeah) in terms of [Premier League referee] (yeah). I mean [he‟s] had a horrendous rollercoaster ride over the last few seasons in terms of he got on to the national list, [...] but then came off, fought his way back and, I mean, full marks to him for that, because I‟m not sure I would have

331 been able to do that, because I would have found it very difficult (yeah) to actually challenge and go through again, then excelled and got onto the Premier League, and has now been removed again. You know, and ... you must take an enormous hit from that I think... But again, I think you just have to accept that (yeah) I mean to be brutal about it, ... there‟s no divine right to be anywhere [MO2].

Match Observers: Delivering a Critical Message Other aspects of the process of striving for improved standards which were understood to impinge on referees‟ confidence relates to the match observers‟ interventions. An integral element of the observer‟s role is to critique the referee‟s performance, in order that he might „improve‟ on any weaknesses. The „delivery‟ of such messages, both in post-match debriefings and written assessments were understood by a number of participants to have a potentially negative impact on referees‟ confidence and, as a consequence of that, on their ability to perform in future games. The experience of receiving critical comments from observers was expressed by one former referee (and current observer) thus:

you need to know the persona of a referee: very fragile, trust me. You can be crushed (yeah) by a single wrong word, if it‟s said incorrectly, if your terminology or your phraseology is incorrect ... it‟s a crushing blow ... it‟s a difficult one to explain. It‟s so wonderful, the experience of running around having 67, 000 people shouting at you. 22 players shouting at you. It‟s such a marvellous adrenaline rush, that, unless you do it, you can‟t understand. But then to come in, and then have someone who isn‟t perspiring, isn‟t out of breath, and has been sitting down, watching the game of football, say „oh, by the way, you didn‟t....‟ (yeah). That‟s where the fragility comes in, and you‟re immediately on the defensive, or if you‟re like me, if I received a criticism and it was phrased incorrectly, I had a terrible game. (okay) Everything‟s gone, all the good bits are gone, it was awful, I was terrible, I was abject [MO7].

Whilst one referee coach revealed:

332 we had a grown man, a referee, went home crying [in year] because of ... what was said to him after the game. [The match observer] was an experienced former Football League referee and ... really he was putting correction before motivation he should have been putting motivation before correction [RC3].

This balance between supporting and motivating referees, whilst remaining committed to the duties of the observer as the “guardian of standards”[MO4] raises some important issues. For, in many ways there is an inevitable conflict in delivering critical feedback – again designed to improve performance – whilst at the same time trying to motivate the referee. One match observer described his ‟dual role‟ thus:

we‟ve got to stick to our principles, as much as we‟re the guardians of law and the guardians of the referee, if you want to look at it that way, we‟re his friend, we‟ve still got to be totally honest with him. If we‟re not, we‟re not being fair to him [MO9].

I asked match observers whether they were concerned that critical match reports might lead to referees not being selected for future games:

It doesn‟t bother me. (Okay, not something you?/). It‟s my own credibility at stake, I had the unenviable task [number of seasons ago] to mark a referee so far down the scale on a [European game] that I doubt if he‟s refereed again (right). But (got to do it?) you‟ve got to do it. It‟s, I would hate to think that I‟d falsified a mark, and later that same referee got a very important fixture and made a complete balls of it (yeah). I wouldn‟t feel too happy. (No). No [MO4].

This sense of the match observer‟s „credibility‟ being at stake draws attention to the interrelationships between referees, observers and the members of the football figuration who are now „observing the observers‟. For observer's‟ reports were examined by Philip Don (and are now examined by Keith Hackett) and thus observers are, like referees, more constrained to act in certain ways.

333 They are required to highlight any incorrect application of The Laws and failure to do so will impact on their credibility. For, match observers reports are „cross checked‟ by reference to videos of matches, in order that the Head of Refereeing can judge the competency of the observer and the accuracy of his assessments. One match observer described the way he felt „monitored‟:

if we don‟t do our business now ... it‟s certainly picked up on by the hierarchy (right, somebody‟s, sort of, monitoring you?) Someone‟s going to monitor us, yes. I mean even in the Premier League now, Sharon, we‟re monitored to the extent that, you know, they‟ll look at the video (Yeah) and see, you know, (cross-check?) yeah. Or they‟ll say to us, „that tackle in the 56th minute, what was your feelings? Did you see it? Why didn‟t you see it?‟ You know, so I think we‟re monitored, I‟m not going to say as much as the referee, but we are monitored [MO9].

These „monitoring‟ processes were introduced, once more, in order to try and improve the consistency of officials. For, in the absence of monitoring procedures, there was no „measure‟ of the validity of observers‟ assessments. For:

Where we were lacking is that there wasn‟t consistency in terms of the match observer (Okay), there wasn‟t consistency in terms of the referees (Yeah), and therefore, what we‟ve got to do is make sure that everybody‟s singing off the same hymn sheet. ... If they see something, they‟ve got to have the guts to put it in the assessment and say, „in the 47th minute there was a reckless challenge by blue on red which should have resulted in a yellow card in my opinion‟, then, he would mark him accordingly [RC2].

Philip Don had addressed the problem of honest but critical observers‟ reports having a potentially negative impact on referees by attempting to ensure observers delivered the message „constructively‟. And, having interviewed a number of observers not long after they had attended a conference presentation

334 on how they were „meant‟ to be observing referees, it was apparent that many of them had absorbed the message. For example:

I‟m there to support rather than lead. (yep, okay). I‟m there as a shoulder to cry on, I‟m there as a reference point, but, primarily as a support mechanism. To lend my experience, but not to dominate... I‟m there as, literally as support, as a reference point, as an agony uncle, as a shoulder to cry on. And also I think to listen, (okay). I‟m there as a listener as an observer [MO8].

It is interesting to note how many aspects of the work carried out by Don (and now Hackett), by referee coaches and by observers is framed by this need to provide support for referees. For, in many ways, that such a need has arisen is in part due to the very processes of observation and analysis that have been introduced to improve refereeing standards.

Interestingly, despite the pressure on referees in the Premier League, none of the referees who participated in this study indicated that they had ever thought of „giving up‟ their Premier League refereeing. In fact, an interesting pattern was revealed, in that several referees noted that, instead, they had considered giving up in the early years of their refereeing careers. For example:

I think everybody reaches a point particularly in the early stages of refereeing where you have a bad game in terms of you know, a load of abuse, you get a load of hassle, on the local park, and you come home and you think „I don‟t want to do this [PL7].

And:

I shouldn‟t think there‟s a referee around that hasn‟t thought about packing it up,... it doesn‟t happen now so much, but you get downs, a lot of downs and ups. I mean in the early days, a lot of referees pack up in the first 12 months, you know, because it‟s a bit of a

335 culture shock to them. Yeah, there were times in the first couple of seasons that I almost packed up once or twice, you know, because of the aggravation on a Saturday [PL4].

These accounts are revealing and significant for a number of reasons. Firstly, they point to the potential need for more systems of support for referees in the lower leagues and those referees just starting out. For, in the absence of such support, the refereeing profession is likely to lose many new recruits. The second point relates to another commonly proposed „cause‟ of refereeing problems: money and the increased financial stakes in the game. Whilst these factors are often used to explain why players are willing to „cheat‟, which, in turn causes problems for referees, the above accounts, once again, indicate that that „desire to win‟ is not necessarily related to the financial stakes. Rather, we return again to other features of the football subculture and the general willingness of players to „make life difficult‟ for referees – whether “on the local park” or at a Premier League ground.

The Football Subculture. As noted throughout this thesis, the referee‟s job is made more or less difficult by the „attitude‟ of the players, in terms of their willingness to circumvent The Laws, etc. Interestingly, several referees drew attention to another aspect of this subculture: the ways in which players will „test out‟ the „new‟ referees on the Premier League. For example:

The first thing, the first thing I found [] when I first went to my first Premier League game was everyone from the car park attendant upwards knew it was my first game, they knew straight away. And by then I‟d been refereeing [number of] years, but from their view and from the media‟s view, I‟m a brand new referee. [tape ends] ... And for the players‟ point of view they weren‟t interested that I‟d been refereeing for [number of] years, in their eyes it‟s my very first game. And I have no doubt that in that very first game, both sets of players took liberties with me (yeah) because they just wanted to see/

336 SC: There were [number of] cards weren‟t there? [Number of cards] in that first game. Good research! (laughs) [number of cards] on my very first game, and yet, since then, even in that first season, I refereed both teams a couple of times each, and didn‟t have a problem with them (no). They just wanted to see how far I would go (yes, testing you?) that‟s right. And they thought, let‟s see whether he‟ll stop, but I made, I made the point to the players as the game went on: „You keep fouling, I‟ll keep carding‟ (right).And it was, it was [] a challenge [PL6].

That such an experience was shared by other referees indicates that this approach by players might be an aspect of a deliberately planned strategy. In other words, professional players might deliberately set out to test and „push‟ new referees to see what they can get away with. For example:

My first few games went so smoothly and well, you know I was thinking, well, you know, there‟s not a lot of difference between, between them really, until I got the [name of clubs] game where it went off, big time, in the first half. And you know, I issued [number of] cautions in the first half, which for me is a lot because, you know, although I‟m ... quite a stickler for the Laws, that‟s still a lot of cautions in the first half. And I found that they were not responding to me, probably testing me out as a „new lad‟, and I had to work my blimmin socks off for the second half, which was okay actually [PL3]

This pattern of behaviour once again points to the need for those devising policies to address refereeing problems to consider the ways in which players can make the task of the referee more or less difficult. The experiences of the two referees cited here indicates, in fact, that on some occasions players deliberately go out of their way to make the referees‟ task more difficult. Perhaps educating media personnel about such issues might lead to more sympathetic analyses of „newer‟ referees‟ performances , rather than analyses which indicate that referees simply „cannot cope‟ with the demands of the Premier League.

337 Another referee suggested that such attempts to „push‟ or test referees was not only evident in early games: rather, it was a more enduring feature of games in the Premier League:

testosterone and adrenaline is a very dangerous mix, ... and when they perceive a weakness in a referee- and that‟s a human trait as well isn‟t it? I mean, when you perceive a weakness in somebody, you‟ll take advantage of it [PL5].

This referee revealed an interesting strategy for „preparing‟ for games and dealing with particularly difficult players, in terms of „gathering evidence‟ about previous encounters between particular teams and players. His analogy to illustrate the reasons why he adopted such a strategy hints at the „nature‟ of Premier League encounters:

There isn‟t, ... policemen, an army commander, anywhere who would enter into any conflict situation without good intelligence [PL5].

Disciplinary Issues

The potential for Premier League matches to resemble conflict situations might be ameliorated if the disciplinary sanctions for indiscipline were more stringent than they are at present. Referees‟ attitudes towards disciplinary processes and penalties varied widely. A number of referees and match observers expressed sentiments such as these:

there is a general feeling, the referee is the arbiter on the day, and the argument is, he shouldn‟t be concerned with the punishment that‟s handed out, because you know, we keep the executive, the judiciary, and the legislature separately from politics and in the same way you can argue that the referee does his job on the day and someone else administers authority [RC3].

338 A number of referees expressed concern that the current penalties for accumulating cards had been „watered down‟ and, as such had become less effective deterrents:

Yellow cards are meaningless. I think under the current system, player gets a yellow card, he doesn‟t give a toss until he‟s got the 7th or 8th or whatever, ... really, I think the ... current system has devalued the caution. I think the send off is fine, and as a referee I‟ve never bothered myself with what happens after I‟ve done my bit. ... it does worry me that the yellow card now is, on its own, is a fairly meaningless thing [MO2].

As well as the reduction in the consequences of receiving a yellow card, other cultural changes were understood to have lessened the impact of financial penalties for players. One referee described the response from a player who had been warned about the possibilities of being fined:

„I couldn‟t care less, we‟re millionaires‟ (yeah) That was the answer from a player (both laugh) That‟s what you‟re up against [PL3].

Referee‟s assessments about currently „ineffective‟ penalties for indiscipline were often coupled by their own suggestions about what might prove to be more effective measures:

money means nothing to them. Points mean things to them ... if they got to so many disciplinary points, or so many cautions, you know, whack points of them... But I know that they‟d end up taking them to court... but that is the sanction that I think would work... It means nothing to them, a £20,000 fine, what does it mean to them? [PL3].

339 Such insights into the constraints which might limit the FA‟s ability to intervene to increase the severity of penalties for indiscipline are extremely perceptive. For, as Nic Coward, the FA Company Secretary suggested:

The jurisprudence of penalties is quite difficult ... If you look at the Premier League, just give that a value... you can come to some pretty shocking end values. What did it cost [Premier League club] to be deducted those points [number of seasons ago]? n10s of millions of pounds. What would it have cost a club that would have got into the Champions‟ League to drop out?.... It‟s trying to work out a scale and it needs to be proportionate. Any disciplinary system has to have a reasoned ... policy behind it ... So if you‟re a Premier League club, and a certain incident gets you a £50,000 fine, what makes that [incident] attract that [fine] ... as opposed to a point which could cost you £50 million? You have to have some sort of [] proportionality check between that and that‟s at the heart of how you try to work out a penalty system.

The issues raised by Coward here provide a pertinent reminder of the ongoing power struggles within the football figuration and, in particular, of the shifting constraints on various members of the football figuration. Whilst a perceived lack of support for referees and a belief that FA disciplinary policies were ineffective led one referee [PL6] to describe the organisation as “a toothless tiger”, in reality, FA members are constrained by a variety of other groups and factors (such as the potential for any point deduction to be challenged in the courts). As such, what many of the participants in this study viewed as the most effective sanction is unlikely to be imposed, except in exceptional circumstances. In the final section of this chapter, I look at the ways the FA, the Premier League and the Football League were constrained to restructure the organisation and management of elite level refereeing in 2001.

The Introduction Of The Professional Game Match Officials Board

Concern at the ways in which refereeing administrators might be compromised by their employment by the Leagues, coupled with pressure from FIFA

340 informed the decision to establish a new structure for elite level refereeing. The Professional Game Match Officials Board (PGMOB) was set up as a joint initiative between the Premier League, the Football League and the FA. As noted, since its establishment in 1888, members of the Football League had always overseen refereeing appointments to their competition. However, FIFA members were:

very anxious that competitions do not control referees for all the obvious reasons about bias and ... competitions, generally are controlled by chairman (yes) and chairman have their own ways of dealing with things, and if things go wrong, they object, and one of the things they object to is the referee (right). So, FIFA is very concerned that all referee appointments are totally divorced from clubs (yes). And of course, clubs make up competitions, and so The Football Association was anxious to get away from the idea that the Premier League had its referees list and The Football League had its referees list (John Baker, FA Head of Refereeing).

The PGMOB was created to oversee the management, training and development of refereeing at the elite level. Match officials were categorised into two groups: The , comprising 24 referees (since reduced to 21, The Mirror Online, 29/10/2003) and 48 Assistant referees and The National Group, with 50 referees and 188 assistant referees. The Select Group officials receive an annual retainer of £33,000 and an additional match fee of £900 per game, meaning potential earnings of £60, 000 per season. Assistant referees in the Select Group receive an allowance for their time dedicated to training. Referees meet fortnightly for training and development. They are not full time professionals, for the system was designed in order to allow them to continue with their careers „outside‟ of refereeing. The Select Group was overseen by Philip Don from 2001 until October 2003 when he was „removed‟ from the post (The Electronic Telegraph, 25/10/2003). Whilst the PGMOB satisfied the requirement in FIFA statutes for the national association to „formally‟ assume responsibility for refereeing, in practice the personnel remained unchanged.

341 Alongside Don, Ashworth remained in charge of Football League matters, and Joe Guest continued to oversee appointments at the FA.2. And when Philip Don was „removed‟ from his post in October 2003, to be replaced by Keith Hackett, significant questions were raised about the extent to which the influence of clubs had been lessened by the „formal‟ restructuring.

1 The NRB was made up 3 members of the Football League, 3 members of the Premier League, and 3 members of The FA. The NRB was set up in the late 1980s. The 3 members from The FA were: The FA CEO; Head of Refereeing & the Chair of the Referees‟ Committee. The members from the FA Premier League were the FAPL & FL CEOs, The FAPL & FL Referees‟ Officers and the FAPL & FL Secretaries. 2 The three chief executives of the Premier League, the Football League and the FA comprise the Board, which meets monthly. Meetings are attended by the FA company secretary, Nic Coward and are Chaired by Peter Heard, an FA and Football League Board member (Interview with John Baker).

342 Conclusion: Key Findings and Implications for the Future

This thesis has explored the long term development of match officiating and asked ‘when’, ‘how’ and ‘why’ refereeing problems have developed in elite level men’s football. Throughout, I have examined the dynamic power relationships between players, administrators, fans, media personnel and referees in order to demonstrate the ways in which refereeing problems have emerged. Guided by the figurational approach framing this study, I have contextualised match officials within the broader relational network of which they are a part. Through this analysis I have highlighted the ways in which various groups, individuals and social processes have constrained or enabled referees at particular points in time.

Implications for Theory and Research The figurational approach to this study has provided a useful framework within which the development of refereeing and refereeing problems can be understood. By contextualising referees within the football figuration, significant insights have been gained into the reasons why refereeing has come to achieve problem status in the contemporary game. However, the developmental approach adopted here has revealed the long term, deeply rooted ‘causes’ of refereeing problems and has debunked common sense understandings that refereeing problems are a recent phenomena, ‘caused’ by, for example, increased financial stakes in the game and/or decreasing refereeing standards. This preliminary study into the development of refereeing has highlighted numerous potentially fruitful avenues for further research which have been noted throughout this thesis. The potential for gaining further insights into refereeing problems would seem to be best met in future studies which similarly take account of the wider football network of which referees are a part and which consider the long term development of refereeing as a problem, rather than solely focusing on referees in isolation

343 and in ‘the present’. It is argued that these aspects of a figurational approach to doing research have produced novel insights and ways of understanding the sociological questions about the ‘why’, ‘when’ and ‘how’ of refereeing problems identified at the outset of this study. However, this study has also highlighted some aspects of the figurational approach to doing research which, it is argued, require further ‘refinement’. Specifically, my experience of attempting to ‘apply’ the ‘sensitising concepts’ of involvement and detachment during the course of this study was that this ‘process’ has been problematic. To date, figurational sociologists have failed to adequately elucidate what constitutes a ‘suitable’ balance between involvement and detachment how the researcher engaged in doing research can achieve this. This thesis, along with other recent works by Green (2000b) and Roderick (2003) goes some way towards addressing this issue. However, it also highlights the need for further attention to be paid to this aspect of figurational theory.

Summary of Key Findings The emergence of various written codes both inside and outside the public schools (Chapter Three) raised two significant issues. Initially, questions were raised about the common sense understanding that public school games were always played in a ‘gentlemanly’ spirit. The existence of penalties for players wilfully breaking the rules indicated that, at this very early stage in football’s development, players deliberately sometimes contravened the rules. The stipulation in various codes that the umpires’ decisions were final, raised questions about whether ‘gentlemanly’ school boys always accepted their decisions.

These questions pointed to two key and long term issues in relation to refereeing. The first is the potential for disparity between the ideologies of those framing The Laws, those applying The Laws and those playing the game. It was argued that in the context of dynamic games, this creates the opportunity for

344 conflict to arise between match officials and players. The second and related issue is that written rules are subject to interpretation. Because the process of interpretation is subjective, it is therefore open to contestation. It was argued that this is likely to generate conflict between those supervising games and those playing them because all those involved are required to interpret the rules. Because these issues emerged at such an early stage in football’s development, it was argued that the potential for conflict to arise between match supervisors and players exists almost regardless of the level of competition and the significance of winning or losing. This undermines common sense understandings that contemporary refereeing problems can be explained solely by reference to the increased financial stakes in the elite game.

It was argued that at this relatively unsophisticated stage in football’s history, match supervisors were unconstrained by outside bodies. The existence of written rules provided both players and match supervisors with the first – as far as we know - prohibitions on what was and what was not permitted during games. Thus third parties were required to act in certain ways according to those rules and to enforce particular penalties when the rules were broken.

Questions were then raised (Chapter Four) about the assumption that games played under the emergent FA code were always played without disputes and in the ‘gentlemanly’ spirit often ascribed to them. Elements of ‘unsporting conduct’ and the ‘football subculture’ were identified and, related to this, the disparity between the amateur ideology underpinning the game’s laws and the reality of how games were played was identified as a problem. That such an issue was apparent at a time when there was a considerable overlap between those devising The Laws, playing, overseeing and administrating the game again signalled the long term nature of refereeing problems. The way in which FA legislators responded to the emergence of playing practices not specifically forbidden in the ‘letter’ of the written laws, but which were seen to be against the ‘spirit’ of the game, was also noted.

345

Changes to The Laws were identified as indications of the ongoing power struggle about the legitimacy of certain practices between those shaping The Laws and those playing the game. The genesis of match officiating as a ‘problem’ or an issue in the literature on football was also traced back to, at least, 1887. In terms of the constraints on match officials, the memorandum to match officials issued by the FA in 1886 was identified as the first expression of a perceived need to establish ‘consistency’ over the interpretation and application of the Laws of the Game. The memorandum was also highlighted as the first example of the FA attempting to constrain officials to act in particular ways. However, this process was at an embryonic stage in the 1880s and, without any systems of observation, match officials were able to act relatively autonomously.

The development of the football subculture was then explored in more depth (Chapter Five), particularly in terms of playing practices designed to deceive referees. FA administrators’ efforts to educate players and officials about the way football ‘should’ be played were examined and the diffusion of FA ideals through RA (London) publications was then considered. Here I drew attention to the gradually increasing constraints on referees, through an analysis of FA/RA (London) ‘instructions’ to referees. However, I argued that, in the absence of any systematic monitoring of referees’ performances at this stage, such constraints were relatively limited. However, other factors which may have constrained referees to act in certain ways were identified. In particular, the increasing power of Football League club personnel and, to some extent supporters, was highlighted. For, when clubs protested about particular officials, the Football League responded by not appointing them to officiate games involving protesting clubs. It was suggested that the ‘protests’ of players and supporters on match days may have led to referees to become relatively ‘lenient’ in order to avoid confrontation.

346 The changing status of match officials (Chapter Six) was examined and it was argued that the relatively low status of officials by this time was one of the reasons behind the formation of the RU. I highlighted the way refereeing issues were ‘addressed’ by short-term, knee jerk policies and I also underlined the way in which refereeing problems were often identified as ‘isolated’ incidents, rather than as the outcome of long term processes involving the interactions of various different groups. The issue of increasing constraints on referees through an examination of the FA ‘policy’ of punishing referees who did not adhere to FA instructions was also explored. Once more, whilst analysing such constraints, I demonstrated that in comparison to contemporary officials, referees in the early 20th century were still able to act relatively autonomously.

The focus of this study was broadened (Chapter Seven) to examine the international development of refereeing - demonstrating that the FA was, for much of the 20th century, relatively powerful in relation to the game’s international governing body. I examined the way in which the status and relative power of the FA contributed to the perception that ‘British methods’ of match officiating and interpretations of The Laws were pre-eminent. Once more the theme of interpretation was addressed through the gradual development of international football, as I examined the processes which paralleled the development of the game in England by which various different playing and refereeing practices had emerged. Finally, I examined the way in which the FA and FIFA began to address this international problem.

The international game was further examined (Chapter Eight) as I demonstrated how, through the World Cup competition, the problems created by diverse playing and refereeing practices became increasingly apparent to the game’s international governing body. I returned to the theme of ‘conflicting ideologies’ and highlighted the conflicts raised in this connection between the game’s administrators and those playing and overseeing games. Here I drew attention to the way that FIFA’s failure to contextualise referees within the

347 relational network of which they are a part meant that, in devising policy to counteract violence in the game, they failed to understand and account for the way in which referees themselves are immersed in the football subculture. I demonstrated the ways in which the ‘shared ideology’ between players and referees led to the perpetuation of playing styles and foul practices which FIFA and the FA wished to see outlawed. I argued that FIFA’s adoption of more ‘democratic’ selection policies resulted in relatively inexperienced referees overseeing high profile fixtures and that this, in turn, had a number of unforeseen consequences which conflicted with the organisation’s aim of improving refereeing standards. I then examined the ways in which FIFA members’ commitment to the ideological ‘principle’ of ‘fair play’ blinded them to the more significant underlying causes of refereeing problems. I demonstrated how more adequate understandings of these problems were gradually recognised by FIFA and how the organisation’s more comprehensive understanding of disciplinary problems led to the formulation of more effective strategies to tackle the problem of ‘violent’ play. Through this analysis, I have shown how FIFA interventions have come to significantly constrain referees at both national and international level. Finally I highlighted the processual and enduring nature of refereeing problems. Here, again by considering the football subculture, I argued that the successful ‘eradication’ of one form of foul play did not ‘solve’ the problem of ‘foul play’. I argued that because players are immersed in the football subculture, within which they are often guided more by the principle of ‘winning at all costs’ than by playing ‘fairly’, players adopt alternative strategies and practices to circumvent The Laws.

Examination of the ways in which refereeing issues have come to achieve prominence in contemporary discussions about football was the focus of Chapter Nine. I demonstrated how changes in media coverage of football, both in print and on radio and television, have led to a heightened perception of refereeing as problematic and to redefinitions of ‘what’ the problem is. Once more, both the football subculture and the issue of interpretation were shown to

348 be central to understanding this issue. For, through an analysis of (ex)-players and managers as commentators, I demonstrated how the involvement of former players and managers in the media-football figuration has contributed to the perception of refereeing as a problem. Through a mini case study of a match commentary, I demonstrated how these issues are played out and, in particular drew attention the way in which the instant replay has shaped our perceptions of refereeing standards – and has also informed ideas about potential solutions to refereeing problems. However, I then discussed the ways in which technological aids for referees, seen by many as the panacea to refereeing problems, fail to address the root causes of such problems. Based as they are on a ‘redefinition’ of the problem, I revealed the way in which such ‘solutions’ fail to address the more fundamental problems raised in relation to refereeing: the issue of interpretation and the conflicting ideologies between players and administrators.

The views of elite level refereeing personnel on a number of the issues and themes raised in this thesis were then presented and discussed (Chapter Ten). Initially, I outlined the refereeing ‘structure’ which was in place when I interviewed participants and explored their views on the relationships between Philip Don, the then Premier League Referees’ Officer, Premier League club personnel, and The FA. Some of the problems raised by Don’s employment by the Premier League were then discussed. Throughout, participants’ thoughts and opinions on their relationships with other members of the football figuration and on issues such as the interpretation of The Laws were presented. Finally, the ways in which a number of the strategies employed by the Premier League to ‘improve’ refereeing standards may actually have had a detrimental affect on referees’ ability to perform were considered.

Implications for Football Policy This research has raised a number of implications for future policy designed to address refereeing issues. The first highlights the need for policy makers to

349 attempt to develop an adequate understanding of the interrelationships between referees and other powerful members of the football figuration. For, as we have seen, where ‘knee jerk’ policies have been implemented and where policy makers have been guided by the prevalent, present-centred understandings of ‘the problem’, such measures have often proved ineffective. Policy makers must develop a comprehensive understanding of the problems they are seeking to address in order to develop adequate policy to change them.

The second relates to the fact that refereeing is inherently problematic. The laws must be interpreted, a subjective process which will always generate possibilities for conflict, particularly given the conflicting ideologies about how the game should be played and refereed held by different members of the football network. One way of beginning to address some of the disparities between the ideologies of various members of the football network might be to consider ways of formally involving those different members of the football figuration in discussions about the development of The Laws. Perhaps the game’s administrators need to move away from seeking solutions to an irresolvable problem and move towards encouraging a greater level of understanding and acceptance of the inherently problematic nature of refereeing by all members of the football figuration.

Originality of this Study This thesis presents an unique synthesis of original empirical research and sociological analysis on the development of elite level refereeing in men’s football. It is the first in-depth study of the subject and, whilst only constituting a preliminary analysis, has offered significant insights into the development of refereeing. In particular, this study has shed light on the deeply rooted, long- term causes of refereeing ‘problems’. It represents the first figurational analysis of refereeing issues. As such, it has offered original insights into the dynamic power relationships between referees and other members of the football

350 figuration and into the ways those shifting relationships have contributed to the perception and definition of refereeing as problematic.

Limitations of this Study and Suggestions for Future Research As a preliminary account, this work has inevitably revealed many areas which may provide researchers with potentially fruitful avenues for future study. Throughout this thesis, I have drawn attention to aspects of the development of football refereeing which would benefit from further research. Most notable amongst these are the development of refereeing in football-like games played outside of the public schools in the 19th century and the international development of refereeing. Similar, further research into the minutes of the Football League and the Football Association could provide data to facilitate a more adequate understanding of the development of refereeing as an issue than has been presented in this study. There are also a number of other areas which, for reasons of time and space, have not been addressed in this study and which might, potentially, improve our understanding of refereeing as an ‘issue’.

In particular, as the focus in this study has been upon the development of refereeing in elite level men’s football, a parallel study of refereeing in the women’s game is likely to provide enormous scope for future work. Similarly, whilst gender has not been of central concern in this study, alternative analyses might usefully explore the ways in which gender relations have shaped the development of refereeing and the reasons why elite level refereeing in the contemporary men’s game is, almost exclusively, a ‘male preserve’.

Work on the development of football refereeing in other countries would provide opportunities for cross-cultural comparison and might offer insights into the ways in which, for example, different economic, social and cultural factors shape the perception of referees and, potentially, the construction of refereeing as problematic. Similarly, studies on the development of officiating in other sports could provide useful data to facilitate comparative analysis on

351 the emergence of officiating as an issue. Again, such work might provide insights into the reasons ‘when’, ‘how’ and ‘why’ officiating becomes problematic in various sports contexts.

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373 Wilkins, E.J. (1970) An Introduction to Sociology. MacDonald & Evans Ltd, London. Williams, J. (2002) Fact Sheet 15: Refereeing. Sir Norman Chester Centre for Football Research. http://www.le.ac.uk/of/resources/factsheets/fs15.html (03/02/2003). Williams, J., Dunning, E. and Murphy, P. (1984) Hooligans Abroad; The Behaviour and Control of English Fans in Continental Europe. Routledge & Keegan Paul, London. Williams, J. and Wagg, S. (eds.) (1991) British Football and Social Change. Leicester University Press, Leicester Williams, J. and Woodhouse, J. (1991) „Can Play, Will Play? Women and Football in Britain‟. In J. Williams and S. Wagg (eds.) British Football and Social Change. Leicester University Press, Leicester, pp. 85-108. Williamson, D. J. (1991) Belles of the Ball. R & D Associates, Devon. Witty, J. R. (1960a) „Early Codes‟. In A.H. Fabian & G. Green (eds.) Association Football, Volume . The Caxton Publishing Company Ltd., London pp. 133-146. Witty, J. R. (1960b) „The F. A. Frames its Laws‟. In A.H. Fabian & G. Green (eds.) Association Football, Volume 1. The Caxton Publishing Company Ltd., London, pp. 147-57. Witty, J. R. (1960c) „The Laws To-day‟. In A.H. Fabian & G. Green (eds.) Association Football, Volume 1. The Caxton Publishing Company Ltd., London, pp. 158-179. Witty, J. R. (1960d) „The History of Refereeing‟. In A.H. Fabian & G. Green (eds.) Association Football, Volume 1. The Caxton Publishing Company Ltd., London, pp. 180-184. Witty, J. R. (1960e) „Referees and Linesman‟. In A.H. Fabian & G. Green (eds.) Association Football, Volume 1. The Caxton Publishing Company Ltd., London, pp. 185-196. Witty, J. R. (1960f) „The Organization of Referees‟. In A.H. Fabian & G. Green (eds.) Association Football, Volume 1. The Caxton Publishing Company Ltd., London, pp. 197-202. Witty, J. R. (1960g) „The Substitution of Players‟. In A.H. Fabian & G. Green (eds.) Association Football, Volume 3. The Caxton Publishing Company Ltd., London, pp. 287-293. Young, K (1986) „“The Killing Field”: Themes in Mass Media Responses to the Heysel Stadium Riot‟. In International Review for the Sociology of Sport, Vol. 26, Nos. 2/3. Young, P. (1962) Football in Sheffield. Stanley Paul, London. [edition referred to is 1981, Dark Peak Ltd, Sheffield]

374 Other Sources European Sports Charter and Code of Ethics. Published by the Council of Europe. The Athletic News Football Annual, 1891 The Athletic News Football Annual, 1892 The Athletic News Football Annual, 1894 The Athletic News Football Annual, 1906-1907 The Athletic News Football Annual 1909-1910 The Referees‟ Association Chart 1896. Blackburn Referees‟ Association: 100 years Minutes & histories Blackpool, Fylde & Wyre Districts Referees‟ Association 75th Anniversary 1908- 1983 North Riding (Yorks) Referees‟ Association 75th Anniversary Brochure: 1907-1982. Sheffield & District Referees‟ Association minutes 1913-1971 Sheffield & District Referees‟ Association 1907/8-1982/3, 75th Anniversary Brochure. Tonbridge Referees‟ Association Minutes 1949-1953.

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Appendices

Appendix 1 Filemaker Pro Categories – list of themes

Appendix 2 Hand-written form for categorising articles and entering data on Filemaker Pro electronic database.

Appendix 3 Referees interview schedule without prompts

Appendix 4 Key dates in the development of refereeing

Appendix 5 Letter from Leese to Pickford, 28th October 1895

Appendix 6 Letter from Pearson to Pickford 28th May 1895

Appendix 7 Report on The FA Referees’ Instructional Course, Lilleshall, July 1962

376 Appeals to FA / Club Mottos England Team Hard Men Management Player / Fan Psychology Surgery FIFA Club Ownership Selection Hooliganism Resignations Interaction Race Tackles From Abandoned Club Records / European Head Injuries Management Player Finance Racism Behind Matches Success Competition Hillsborough Sackings Player Fines RANKING Taylor Report Abuse Club Structure Fair Play Disaster Mascots Player Image Assistant Team Selection Academies Club Takeover Fans / Supporters Injuries Match Fixing Rights Referees Technology Addiction Coaching Fan Protests Insurance Media Player Loans Referee Television Advertising Commentators FA Structure International Merchandising Player Loyalty REFEREE - Television Ratings Alcohol Compensation Fanzines Competition Mid Winter Break Player Support ATTACKS ON Television Rights Asian Players Country / League Feeder Clubs Internet Misconduct Player Records Referee - full time Ten Yard Rule Atmosphere conflicts Financial Reports Kit National Stadium /Success Referee Terracing Attendances Corporate Fitness League Size Nationalism Player Retirement Supensions Three Way Autobiographies / Hospitality Fixture League Structure Non League Player Strike Referee Assessors Communication Biographies Creatine Congestion (English) Football Player Referee - players Tickets Ball Diet FA charge League Structure Nursery Clubs Suspensions as Training Bosman Ruling Digital Television FA Structure (Scottish) Other Sport Player Technical Two Referees TRANSFERS Brawl Director of Football LEAGUE Over-Playing Abilities Relations TRANSFER Rule Changes Bungs Football Magazines STRUCTURE Pain Killers Player WINDOW Salary Capping Business Disability Football Phone-Ins (IRISH) Pay Per View Testimonials USA Soccer Cards / Bookings Discipline Football regulator League Structure Penalties Player Wages Safety Video Panel Club AGMs Discipline Foreign Clubs (Europe) Pitch Invasions Player Wives / Season Extension Video Replays Club Conflicts (violence) Foreign Legal Matters Player Age Partners Sending Off Wage Cap Club Cooperation Discipline (off Management Legitimate time Player Agents Playing Style Sexism Winter break Club / Country field) Foreign Players wasting Player Awards Point Deduction Sexuality Women's Football Player Fines Conflict Diving Free Transfers Management Player Careers Police (players / clubs) Shirt Pulling Club Exemption Drugs Gambling Management (post playing) Politics Women in Sin Bins Club Finance Economics Gender Appointments Player / Club Policy Football Squad Size Club Fines Education Goalpost Management Conflict Premier League Work Permits Sledging Club Flotation England Team Cameras Contracts Player Conflicts Structure World Cup Hosts Sliding Tackles Club / League Coaching Goal Celebrations Management Player Contracts Pressure World Rankings Sponsorship Conflicts England Team Goalkeepers Fines Player Prize Money Youth Stadia Club Medical Management Ground Shares Management Endorsements Promotion / Stewards Personnel Ground Closures Records Relegation

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7 Appendix 1 Filemaker Pro Categories – List of Themes

7

Key Dates in the Development of Refereeing

1845 First written rules produced at Rugby school. 1848 First Cambridge Rules drawn up. 1840s- „Third parties‟ used to supervise various public school forms of football and football played by adults outside of the schools. 1862 Sheffield FC (formed 1857) produces its first known written code. 1863 The FA established & the first FA Laws of the Game (LOTG) published: Tripping, hacking, carrying the ball, throwing the ball & picking it up directly from the ground all forbidden in the laws. Knocking the ball on (i.e., striking or propelling it with the hand or arm) and catching it directly from a kick are permitted. A stringent (rugby-like) Offside law is contained in the first FA LOTG: all teammates of the player playing the ball must be behind it when it is played forward. No mention of third parties in the FA LOTG. 1865 Catching directly from a kick forbidden in FA LOTG. „Tape‟ crossbar (8ft from ground) introduced. 1866 First games played between Sheffield FC and an FA representative team. Offside rule relaxed – now players remained onside (and able to play the ball) when it was played forward if there were at least three opponents nearer their own goal-line. 1870 Carrying and Knocking the ball on forbidden in the FA LOTG. Players forbidden from using hands to hold or push opponents and from charging from behind. Goalkeepers first identified in the laws . 1871-2 Inaugural season of the FA Challenge Cup. Played according to the FA LOTG, with special „cup competition‟ rules. The competition rules stipulate that two umpires and a referee must be appointed for each of the matches in the Final ties. Umpires & referees had to be neutral. The decision of the umpires – one in each half of the field- was final: the referee was off the field and was only called on to make a decision if the umpires could not agree. 1872 Corner kicks first introduced. 1873 SFA formed. 1873-4 First (indirect) free-kicks in the FA LOTG: awarded for any infringement of Rules VI., VIII., IX., [offside, handling the ball, tripping and hacking]. First mention of umpires being able to send players from the field of play: for any infringement of Rule X., [nails protruding from footwear]. 1875 First wooden cross-bars used. 1876 Welsh FA formed. 1880-81 Referee first mentioned in the FA LOTG. The referees‟ duties were defined, to: decide between umpires in cases where they could not agree, to keep a record of the game & to act as timekeepers. In the event of “ungentlemanly behaviour”, the offender or offenders were, “in the presence of the umpires... cautioned and “in the case of violent conduct, the referee [had the] power to rule the offending player or players out of play and order him or them off the ground”. 1882 IFAB formed. „[F}rom that moment only one set of Laws, as agreed by the United Kingdom Associations – and later the representatives of the FIFA – upon that board, has obtained wherever Association football is played‟ [(Green, 1953, 557]. 1883 First British Home International Championship. 1885-6 First guidance from FA for umpires and referees: The FA Memoranda contained 9 points of instruction & advice. 1887 The Committee of The FA issues guidance for umpires & referees on pitch markings – including: ½ way line, arc at corner flag, 6 yards from each goal-post. 1888 FL formed. 1888 By 1988, free kicks awarded for: Encroaching or trespass at the kick-off; For improper throw-in; Interference with play when off-side; Handling the ball, except in the case of the goalkeeper within his own half of the field of play; Goalkeeper carrying the ball more than two steps; Playing the ball a second time before another player plays it at any free-kick, including the kick-off and the corner-kick; Tripping, hacking or jumping at a player; Using the hands to hold or push an opponent; Charging from behind unless such opponent be facing his own goal and, in the opinion of the umpires or referee he, in that position, is wilfully impeding his opponent. [(Green, 1953, 579] 1889 Referees given additional powers to stop game when they considered circumstances warranted it, to award free kicks & send players off the field if guilty of ungentlemanly conduct – ALL WITHOUT APPEAL. Can now intervene on own initiative. 1890 The function of the referee was enlarged in 1890, and:- „A referee shall have power to award a free-kick; without any appeal, in any case where he thinks that the conduct of a player is dangerous, or likely to prove dangerous, but not sufficiently so as to justify him in putting in force the greater powers vested in him as above (viz. the caution or ordering from the field of play for violent conduct).‟ 1891 Introduction of the penalty kick, the approval of goal nets. Goal keeper allowed to advance “not more than six yards from his goal line. Change to LOTG, „No player may charge an opponent from behind, unless such opponent be not only facing his own goal, but is, in the opinion of the referee wilfully impeding his adversary, while in that position. Referee – from touchline onto field, umpires become linesmen. 1892 Amendment to penalty kick – kicker shall not play the ball a second time & play should be extended to allow the kick to be taken. 1893 RA(London) formed. 1895-6 End of appeals - (Rous & Ford, 1974, 37), except for penalty kicks (though referee doesn‟t have to wait for appeal). 1896 First Referees‟ Chart issued by the referees‟ association – includes hints to referees. 1898 Promotion and relegation introduced. Players‟ Union was formed. 1899- Inquiry into the subject [of refereeing] undertaken by The FA which 1900 led to the formation of „The Referees‟ Committee‟, whose members were appointed from the council. 1896-99 Goalkeeper restricted to using his hands in his own half of field Game should be played by 11 vs. 11. 1900 1900 First FA regulations issued for the Control of Referees. 1902 Field markings – present day version. 1903 Direct free-kick introduced. Advantage clause included in laws. 1904 FIFA formed. 1905 Goalkeeper must remain on his goal line for the taking of penalty kicks, but allowed to move along it. 1906 British Associations join FIFA. 1907 Player can only be offside in the opponents half of the field. The Professional Footballers Association (PFA) Formed. 1908 IFAB changes laws allowing for halfway line to be marked by flags. 1913 FIFA becomes a member of IFAB (20% voting rights). ‟10 Yards‟ rule introduced for free kicks. Goalkeeper limited to handling the ball in the penalty area. 1914 ‟10 Yards‟ rule extended to cover corners. 1920 Players can no longer be given offside from a throw-in. British associations withdraw from FIFA. 1924 Rules changed to allow a goal to be scored directly from a corner. Taker of corner can only kick the ball once explicitly stated in Laws. Rous introduces „diagonal‟ system of refereeing. British Associations rejoin FIFA. 1925 New offside law – changed from three to two opponents between attacker and the goal line. 1927 First radio commentary of football match aired. 1928 British associations withdraw again from FIFA. 1930 First World Cup contested in Uruguay. 1935 FA experiment with two referees. 1937 BBC first televised a football match – Arsenal v Everton. 1937-38 FA Laws of the Game revised and redrafted by Sir Stanley Rous (then FA Secretary). 1939 Numbers on players‟ shirts made compulsory. 1946 British associations rejoined FIFA. 1951 White ball first used. 1954 UEFA formed. 1957 FIFA given 50%voting rights on IFAB. 1960 League Cup launched. 1961 Maximum wage removed. 1965 Substitution allowed for injuries. 1966 Substitution allowed for any reason. 1970 Red and yellow cards introduced at Mexico World Cup. 1971 Match Assessors introduced. 1973 3 up and 3 down promotion and relegation introduced. 1980 New offence: Spitting to be considered as violent conduct. 1981 3 points for a win. 1982 League Cup sponsored – Milk Cup. 1983 League sponsored by Canon. First live televised league game. 1986 Littlewoods Cup, league sponsored by Today newspaper. 1987 Play-offs (promotion and relegation). 1990 Mandatory instruction of the IFAB – professional foul leading to prevention of clear goal-scoring opportunity becomes sending-off offence. 1992 Goalkeeper banned from picking up a kicked back-pass. 1993 Fourth official introduced 1995 Notion of „interfering with play‟ introduced to offside rule. 1996-7 Linesmen become Assistant Referees. 1997 The Laws revised. 1998 Tackle from behind must be sanctioned as serious foul play, punishable by a red card. 1999 Any „simulating action‟ intended to deceive the referee must be sanctioned as unsporting behaviour. 2000 Use of offensive or insulting or abusive language or gestures becomes a sending-off offence.